Reminiscence
by Over321
Summary: All I could think about as I made my way down the corridor to the infirmary was the momentary glimpse I had received of Reo's face; the soft porcelain skin, the flushed lips, and the heavily guarded eyes.  Beautiful, so beautiful.
1. Chance

**Warnings: Spoilers for Chapters 49 and up, rated T for mild yaoi (rating may go up in the future...depends on where I decide to go with this) don't like, don't read xD**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pandora Hearts or any of the wonderful characters, Jun Mochizuki does. *the first couple chapters follow along almost exactly with the manga- just want to get the story set straight before I go off and do whatever I please with these characters ^_^ ***

**AN: Underneath the chapter number and title is the point of view (Reo/Elliot) that the chapter is in.**

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><p><strong><span>1<span>**

**Chance**

Reo

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><p>It's dark.<p>

Yes, it's always dark.

I don't want to see.

I never wanted to see…

I could hear the soft echo of boots clacking across the library floor. From the sound of it, the person was weaving in and out between bookshelves. I absentmindedly wondered what they were doing, but I was quickly swept back into the story on the page before me. I read, even though the words were blurred by the barrier of black hair that fell into my eyes. I tried to lose myself within those divine pages. The yellowing sheets provided solace and protection. They whispered gentle promises, assuring me that I would not have to see, not have to think, while I was buried amongst their thin pages. And so, although my vision betrayed me from time to time, I read on.

I waited patiently for the footsteps to recede; no one ever stayed in the library very long, I was the only permanent visitor. But to my surprise, the footsteps did not retreat and instead grew closer. I hunched against the bookcase behind me, hoping not to be noticed by the trespasser.

My plan did not work. I knew this as the footsteps stopped, and I could see the toes of black boots through the feathery fringe of my dark bangs.

I did not look up at the boots' owner, preferring to hide myself once more behind my book. I hoped the person would notice that he was intruding on my solitude and leave.

No such luck.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" said a voice from above me. The voice was masculine, though not deep, and the tone was one of surprise.

I sighed, realizing that the boy would probably not disappear any time soon. "Isn't it obvious?" I asked. I addressed the intruder, but my eyes never left the page in front of me.

There was a pause from the boy, and I wondered hopefully if he had departed. But no, I would have heard him leave.

"I'm Elliot Nightray!" the boy yelled at me.

_Oh a noble, but what is he so upset about? _I thought vaguely, _what does it matter who he is? Even if this guy's nobility, he's the one interrupting my reading_.

"So what?" I asked, still not looking up at the other boy, and I decided to just tell him why his presence was bothering me. "To be frank, you're disturbing me. Can't you see I'm reading?"

I heard an annoyed snort from the boy who stood above me. I ignored the response, and I turned the page of my book, taking extreme car not to rip the frail pages.

"Or maybe," I whispered with a soft sigh. "Just like the main character in this book, you're not going to leave me alone until I kneel down before you and kiss your feet?"

The boy didn't make a sound, and I eventually glanced up at him through my dark bangs. I licked my thumb and index fingers delicately before flipping to the next page of my book.

The boy looked like he was in shock. His light brown hair did not cover any portion of his face, so I could clearly see the blue eyes that stared down at me, wide with surprise.

"You're really a bore, you know?" I said, and I turned back to my book. The momentary spark of interest I had felt at the boy's silence had disappeared just as quickly as it had materialized.

The boy jumped at my words, and he seemed to have snapped out of his daze. His blue eyes turned dark with anger. "Can't you see I'm a noble!" he screamed at me.

He reached for my collar, looming threateningly over me. "Look at me asshole," he growled, and he searched my face, trying without success to capture my eyes with his own.

I could hear the sudden clatter of foot falls and the sharp bang of the library door swinging open as more people entered.

"What's going on Elliot!" came a shout from a couple bookcases over.

Elliot stiffened, obviously recognizing the voice, and he grabbed hold of my shoulder. "Shut up Ernest!" he shouted at the quickly approaching footsteps.

Just as Elliot was pulling me roughly to my feet, two Nightray nobles came sprinting down the isle. The closest one had soft brown hair the same color as Elliot's, and I saw in his face, too, a striking resemblance. The other noble, with hair even darker than mine, dashed quickly past the former and grabbed Elliot beneath his arms.

The dark haired man dragged Elliot forcefully away from me, a scowl on his face.

"Let go of me Claude!" Elliot bellowed at the man, and he struggled weakly against the hands that held him. "I can handle this myself, let go!"

The man hauled the wriggling young noble away.

"Hey, you!" Elliot yelled.

I lifted my eyes to watch him without moving my head. I smirked in mild amusement at the furious expression on the Nightray's face.

"Don't think this is over," Elliot growled before he was pulled from my line of sight.

The smirk slipped from my lips as I turned back to my book. For a moment I had been drawn out from behind my protective barrier of literature, and the thought that a childish Nightray had caused me to do so was appalling.

My fingers shook slightly as I turned the page.


	2. Melody

**2**

**Melody**

Reo

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><p>Elliot's final words had been truthful. After our first meeting, he returned many times to the orphanage. I would run into him everywhere: the hallway, the laundry room, and to my dismay, the bathrooms.<p>

"Damn it! You again?" I yelled as I collided with him once more. "I swear you are following me. Go away." I brushed past him, and I hung my head, making sure my ebony bangs covered my face. I clutched my library book to my chest.

"Where are you going?" Elliot asked, and he fell into step beside me as I stormed towards the music room.

"None of your business! Stop following me!" I hissed at him.

Curious faces peered at us as we made our way down the hall. I could hear the whispers as we passed.

"Who's that talking to Reo?"

"I don't know-"

"Reo's such a scary guy-"

I was sick of it, sick of everything.

I entered the music room at a fast paced walk, and I flung my book down unceremoniously on the piano bench.

Taking a calming breath, I seated myself on the edge of the dark wood bench. In one swift motion, I ripped the cloth cover off of the piano keys. I threw it to the side, where it fell and curled into a softly swirling pile.

I blocked out the sounds around me; the voices of the other children, and more importantly the voice of that Nightray brat.

I placed my fingers gently, almost lovingly on top of the ivory keys laid out before me. I closed my eyes, and I played.

It was my ears, and not my mind that told my fingers what to do; a direct channel. I had no thoughts; they drifted away atop the melody that spiraled from my fingertips. The music saturated the air around me, driving out all other noises. All other noises that is, except for one small sound.

Though my mind was turned off, shut down by the crushing harmony, I still registered one stifled noise from behind me: a soft gasp.

I completed the song, feeling my serenity slowly returning as I let the final notes ring out with a tender hum.

I looked up gradually, careful to keep my eyes hidden beneath my unkempt mane.

Many orphans had gathered in the doorway of the music room, and they gazed at me in awed silence. Of course, each one of them had heard me play on multiple occasions, but every time their reaction was the same.

I ducked my head, letting my long black hair completely obscure my features; I was uncomfortable under their stares.

One by one the younger orphans snapped out of the spell cast by my composition. They hurried away, throwing frightened glances at me over their shoulders. I sighed, and I tried to convince myself that I truly did not care. What a lie.

A soft cough from the opposite side of the room reminded me I was still not alone. I felt almost joyful as I turned to see that the Nightray boy still stood behind me. I was not alone. For the first time in my life, I wasn't by myself in the music room.

"Wow, you're great," Elliot said. He stepped forward cautiously, as if trying not to alarm me with a sudden movement. His long pale fingers stretched towards the piano's keys, but they hesitated before touching the aged ivory. "May I?" he asked.

I was stunned that he had asked my permission, and I nodded without putting much thought into the reply. His delicate fingertips brushed the back of my hand as he poised them above the keys. Realizing that my hands were in his way, I quickly dropped them into my lap.

I watched as Elliot stroked the ancient keys, carefully prodding them into submission below his masterful hands. A gentle and lilting tune flowed from the instrument; the volume and tempo seeming to match the resonance of my own heart beats. The feeling was an unnerving one, but not entirely unpleasant. I listened carefully, wondering if I would be able to reproduce the melody on my own.

When he was finished, he let his hands remain on top of the keys; the ending notes dying slowly beneath his fingers. This posed for a slightly awkward tension in the air, as his arms were positioned almost possessively at my sides.

"Where did you learn to play the piano?" Elliot asked. His voice was barely a whisper, and as he spoke his breath tickled my disheveled hair. He was to close, way too close to me.

I bent my neck at an uncomfortable angle, and I ducked underneath his arm, positioning myself outside their controlling barrier. "I taught myself," I said.

Elliot's cerulean eyes widened briefly in astonishment, "You're kidding," he said.

I shook my head, feeling my tousled hair caress my chin and neck.

His gaze hardened abruptly, his eyes turning into unfriendly slits. "Damn it I hate people like you who have natural talent, you don't actually have to work for a goal."

"I had to work for it," I responded quietly, though I was annoyed by his unprovoked anger. "There isn't much else to do in this place," I said, and I looked up at the familiar crumbling ceiling. "Very few ways to beat boredom exist here. I spend most of my time in the library-"

"I know," Elliot interrupted with a roll of his eyes and an aggravated snort.

I continued as if he had not spoken. "-but I love this room. What beautiful and unearthly sounds this instrument can make…it's something glorious you can't hear anywhere else." I ran my fingertips lightly over the keys; they bowed and hummed softly under the receipt of my affectionate attention. "I have all the time in the world, and nothing to do with that time but practice."

Elliot was regarding me speculatively. I realized that tilting my head back to gaze at the ceiling had caused my wispy hair to fall partially away from my face. I quickly slumped forward, allowing my vision to be obscured by darkness once again.

"Why didn't those other orphans come in here?" he asked. "They all just stood by the door."

"Haven't you heard?" I responded with my own question and a mirthless laugh. "I'm "scary" they say, and as this is a place I frequently visit, others tend to stay away."

He glanced at me curiously. "That song you played, what was it called?" he asked.

I was taken aback by his question, and I considered for a moment before I responded. "It doesn't really have one," I said. "What was yours entitled?"

"Statice," he said instantly, almost as if he had been expecting the question.

"Seriously?" I asked, picturing the purple flowers in my mind, I smirked at Elliot. "Flowers that signify remembrance, how feminine."

"Shut up!" Elliot roared at me, leaping off of the piano bench. I could see the veins in his forehead throbbing as he worked himself into a rage.

"I think it will be a great piece," I said quietly, contrasting to his volume.

Elliot looked down at me from his standing vantage point, calming quickly from the soothing compliment. "Really?" he asked.

"Yes," I said sincerely.

"Then it shall be my gift to you!" He said cheerfully.

I frowned at him and rolled my eyes as he danced gleefully out of the room.

But of course, no matter how many times I rolled my eyes, no one would ever notice. I sighed and turned back to the piano, feeling the sudden overwhelming weight of my loneliness.


	3. Striking

**3**

**Striking**

Elliot

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><p>Claude and Ernest had brought me to the orphanage in Sablier yet again. I always accompanied them on their visits now, not particularly caring whether or not I was a hindrance. I was fixated on the strange boy whom I had met so many times, and every reunion only proved to further spark my curiosity.<p>

"What an odd boy," my brothers would say. "Why are you so interested in him?"

I honestly could not have answered, but there was something. _What was it? Why was I so preoccupied with this freak?_

Freak, he was. I had asked the other orphans about Reo. The answers were always similar.

"Reo? The creepy one?"

"That guy scares the shit out of me…"

"He's such a loner-"

Not one of them saw what I did. When I looked at Reo, I did not see a recluse, a loser, or an intimidating freak; I saw a mystery waiting to be solved. The dark hair that always hid his face was practically begging me to push away their uncombed fringe and unearth the color of those bewildering eyes. How much I longed to do so; piece Reo together like a puzzle, sliding those perplexing portions together until they started to make sense.

I had never met anyone as aggravating, but at the same time, I had never met anyone quite as fascinating. I had never known someone who would speak to me as an equal. I was always either being looked down upon by the other nobles, or I was being idolized by the lower classes. I had never been on the same level as someone else, and I wasn't quite sure if I wanted to be sharing my stage with Reo.

The manner in which he spoke to me was both discourteous and precise. When I asked him a question, I could expect an honest straightforward answer regardless of whether or not it was something I actually wanted to be told.

I stepped over the threshold of the orphanage, less an orphanage really than a rundown slum. The path I took as I walked to the library was a familiar one, for this was the most common place to find Reo.

I walked down the hallway, the hem of my sapphire jacket swishing around my thighs. I approached the library's single cracked wooden entrance, and I used the base of my sword to push the ancient door open.

I entered the library as I had so many times before, letting the door slide closed behind me with a gentle snap.

I paced across the floor in long determined strides, and I peered down every isle of bookshelves that I passed, searching for the recognizable shaggy dark hair. I blinked in surprise when I had walked by the final shelf without any sign of Reo.

_Weird, he must be in the music room_, I mused silently.

I turned, with a soft flutter of my jacket and strode back the way I had come. I shoved my hands deep in my pockets, and I considered all the possible places Reo could be.

As I approached the lonesome wooden library door, I heard hushed voices coming from the center of the library.

_Reo wouldn't be there? Would he?_ I shrugged, _I might as well check_.

I had never seen Reo in the lounge portion of the library; he said he preferred to read among the books, where it was quiet.

I headed in the direction of the voices; and as I got closer I realized that they weren't whispers, but the sound of muffled yells.

"Reo?" I called out quietly, and the murmured conversation paused.

I cautiously peeked around the first bookshelf, which served as a room divider between the lounge and the library.

A group of three people occupied the lounge. Reo was seated on a dusty red loveseat (rather, I assume it used to be red, the current color is more of a revolting brown).

I was so caught up in surprise by the fact that Reo appeared to be conversing with other people; it took me a moment to notice he was not seated by his own will. When I noticed the stout hand holding Reo down on the small couch, the scene before me shifted to a more sinister perspective.

The boy who held Reo captive was a portly fellow with curly black hair and piggish squinted eyes. The other, who looked to be the former's twin, was holding a pair of silver scissors.

The cutting tool glinted maliciously in the library's dim lamplight, and the boy who held them had a similar cruelty shining in his eyes. His fat hand covered Reo's mouth, and he bent over the slim boy with an obvious threat in his expression.

"There," the chubby boy said as Reo squirmed beneath him. "Nothing to worry about, we are just going to give you a little haircut."

The boy's thick fingers clasped a large tangled mass of Reo's bangs, and the gleaming scissors swept downwards to strike.

I reacted instantly to the affront; my hand fell to the sword at my side, and my fingers curled around the hilt.

But somehow, although my response had been instantaneous, Reo acted faster. He used his own strength and easily pushed the scissor-wielding boy away from him.

I could only watch, stunned into silence by Reo's sudden display of previously concealed physical prowess. My fingers had frozen, still encircling the handle of my blade.

Reo had removed himself from his docile position on the undersized sofa, and he reached for the decorative urn that sat atop a side table. His fingers coiled around the lip of the clay piece, and he lifted it menacingly above his head.

I flinched when, with a deafening crash, Reo brought the pottery down on top of one of his attackers' heads.

The pot did not break, to my astonishment, and Reo repeatedly struck the two overweight boys with the bulky vase, each time with renewed vigor.

The young men shrieked and attempted in vain to protect their heads with their flailing arms. They cowered on the carpet, desperately trying to defend themselves. Reo found their weak points, and he battered their limbs with bruising blows before bringing a rattling strike to the skull of the scissor's owner.

Blood covered the floor, drenching the parched antique carpet beneath Reo's feet. The two boys had stopped moving; their bodies were limp on the ground, but still Reo swung the brown urn at the motionless forms. The smell of the blood consumed me and pulled me harshly out of my dumbfounded state and back to my senses.

"Reo!" I shouted, and I dashed across the room. "Stop!"

I stepped in front of Reo, blocking his violent rage, and shielding the two unconscious boys. I could not see Reo's eyes as I peered up searchingly into his face, but he had a wicked smirk playing at the corners of his lips. A jolt of fear ran through me as I stared up into that sinister smile, and I wondered if I would become Reo's next prey. Would he beat me to death? Would he leave me here to pass on in a puddle of my own blood? Would I meet my maker with a fracture in my skull?

Natural instincts took over, and they flooded my body, taking control of my limbs. Without the consent of conscience thought, I flew forward and knocked the blood covered pot out of Reo's grasp. The clay urn fell from his fingertips and dropped with a resounding crack onto the library floor. The decoration-turned-weapon did not break as it crashed to the ground, but instead the pot bounced once clumsily before rolling underneath a short coffee table.

I thought that without his weapon, Reo would return to his normal state. But when I stepped past him to pick up the fallen vase, he rushed at the two motionless figures on the floor.

"Reo! No!" I yelled. I wrapped my arms around the slender boy's waist, and I hoisted him of the ground. Although Reo was not very heavy, it took me a while to drag his struggling form away from his assailants' bodies.

As soon as we were out of sight of the two unconscious forms, my knees gave way, and I slid to a sitting position on the ground. Reo fell on top of me, my arms still encircling his waist.

He was breathing hard, taking in deep gasping mouthfuls of air. Once again my body acted without permission from my mind, and I reached up to stroke Reo's hair in a gentle, soothing gesture.

The untidy tresses appeared so coarse and grimy, and I paused in surprise to find that in actuality they were as soft and smooth as silk. I spread my fingers cautiously and buried them deep in the glossy dark hair, and I pulled Reo's head to my chest while I continuously caressed his disorderly locks. He was sitting in my lap passively, his breaths warming the curve of my neck.

His breathing slowed gradually, and he regained his calm. I could tell Reo was back by his sudden sharp intake of air. He leaned away from me, his arms shaking. He raised one of his blood smeared hands to his face and stared at it in numb shock. "Did I do that?" he whispered.

"Yes," I said gently. _Wait. Why am I being gentle with him?_ I wondered angrily. "You could have killed them both if I hadn't stopped you! What were you thinking!" I roared in his ear.

Reo shrank back, away from my violent tirade. His shoulders were trembling, and he was gasping raggedly. I grabbed his shoulders and shoved him back against the couch.

In my momentary rough handling, Reo's neck snapped backwards, and his hair fell partially out of his face. For the first time, I could see him.

I had pictured Reo's face as being terrifyingly repulsive or scarred. Why else would someone go to such lengths to hide their features? But what I glimpsed as Reo's hair fell away from his cheeks was a plane of flawless porcelain skin. He had a small, slightly upturned nose and rose-tinged lips. These lips formed a quivering frown. The only thing I did not see was his eyes, for the moment his hair had slid away from his face; he had clamped his eyelids shut. I had only managed a brief glance at Reo's eyes, but I had seen a shimmering color before they had closed, protected by a barrier of thick dark eyelashes. _Had that been blue? A light green? _I could not tell from the fleeting look.

"Beautiful," I whispered despite myself, and I reached forward to trace Reo's unblemished pale jaw line with one of my extended fingers.

Reo jerked away from my touch and quickly hunched forward so his hair veiled his face once more.

"Why won't you let anyone see your face!" I asked, reaching out for him again. "What are you trying to hide?"

Reo did not answer immediately. He dodged my groping fingers, and standing abruptly, he walked over to the coffee table. He lifted a small book off of the wooden slab and clutched it affectionately to his chest. He turned to me slowly, with a small smile only partly obscured by his tumbling waves of hair. "I'm not trying to hide anything," he said. "I simply don't want to see."

"What do you not wish to see?" I asked.

"The world," Reo responded vaguely, and then, with a small smirk, he seemed to reconsider his answer. "You don't need to know," he said.

My eyes narrowed angrily as I watched Reo leave the room.

"I'll go turn myself in, for this," he said as he swept out the library door, motioning at the bodies on the floor. "You get them some medical attention."

I could only nod as the door shut with a sharp click. After I regained my clarity, I followed Reo in exiting the library. When I stepped into the hallway, he was nowhere in sight.

All I could think about as I made my way down the corridor to the infirmary was the momentary glimpse I had received of Reo's face; the soft porcelain skin, the flushed lips, and the heavily guarded eyes.

_Beautiful, so beautiful._


	4. Bound

**4**

**Bound**

Reo

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><p>"I want you to be my servant," Elliot said casually. He was seated across from me, nonchalantly straddling a wooden chair.<p>

My mind whirled, caught up in a rushing wave of confusion. _What did he just say? _

"What?" I asked carefully, wondering if I had heard the Nightray noble correctly.

Elliot stood slowly, and he pushed his chair to the side. "This is not an impulsive decision," he said. "I think my servant should be someone as infuriating as you."

I could only watch in surprise, though my long black bangs dimmed the scene before me, as Elliot reached out his hand in a friendly gesture.

"What? No way," I said. The words flowed from my lips before I could even think them through. "No way in hell."

Elliot's arm, still outstretched towards me faltered. His fingers paused awkwardly in midair. His light smile fell away, replaced by a hurt expression.

My chest ached suddenly; pain as sharp as a knife stabbed through me. _He looked so dejected, so wounded by my words_. I stepped forward quickly, unable to bear the disappointment in his gaze.

"The Nightray library interests me," I said quietly, and I clutched my book to my chest. I looked up at Elliot through the dark fringe that covered my eyes. "And then again, I have to admit you're not so bad." My arm fell to my side, and I let my book slide from between my fingers. I heard the soft thud as the book hit the library floor.

With my now empty hand, I reached out to Elliot. "So, I accept your offer, Master."

His expression morphed once again, this time to one of comical surprise. "Do you have any requests?" he asked once he had regained his wits.

I thought for a long moment, and an awkward silence filled the air. "Get me a pair of glasses, then." I demanded cheerfully.

Elliot eyed me suspiciously, "are you attempting to hide even more?" he asked.

"No," I said innocently, "but if I am going to be serving you I need to be able to see, right?" It was true that I had needed glasses for some time, for my eyesight had always been poor and had been further damaged by my constant reading.

Elliot gazed at me oddly for a moment, but then his mouth split into a wide grin. "Alright," he said, and he clasped my outstretched hand. We shook hands, as is the custom for the conclusion of every business deal, but our handshake lasted a few seconds longer than it should have, turning the casual gesture into an intimate one. And even when the drawn out handshake was completed, I found myself reluctant to let go.

_Master…_

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><p><strong>AN: Short chapter ^_^ sorry, in the next chapter(s) I will be deviating away from the manga and adding in my own 'interesting' ideas about how Reo and Elliot spend their free time in the Nightray house ) I will eventually come back to the manga though (what happens with humpty dumpty meeting oz , etc.) I should hopefully be updating the story at least once a week if anyone bothers to read.**


	5. Doubts

**5**

**Doubts**

Elliot

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><p>"Whoa," I gasped as I sprinted down the corridor, my sheathed sword clanging against my leg with every stride. I turned to check that Reo was still behind me, and I smirked to myself in mild amusement as he stumbled after me, half-blind because of his tangled mane of hair and unnecessary glasses. My royal blue jacket flared out behind me as I ran, flapping absurdly with the momentum of my break-neck pace.<p>

As we approached a turn in the winding hallway, I slowed to a steady jog. I waited for Reo to catch up to me before coming to a complete halt.

"From his reaction to seeing me, I would assume your father is not pleased with your selection," Reo panted. He bent by my side, his pale hands planted firmly on his knees as he sucked in a deep lungful of air.

"It is not his place to choose," I snarled, and I glared ahead down the lamp lit passageway.

"But Elliot, he is your father," Reo chided. He straightened, and he carefully smoothed the creases of his borrowed ensemble.

I watched in bewilderment as he gently resituated the stiff white collar.

Reo caught my puzzled glance. "I've never worn such fine clothes," he said. "They are uncomfortable to say the least, and not the best outfits to run around dark halls in."

I snorted. "Well whatever the case, I don't care if that man is my father; he has no say in the matter. I chose you."

"Yes, but Elliot, surely the servant's on the list your father gave you would have been more qualified-"

"Shut up!" I roared at him. "You agreed to serve, so you had better not question your own place in this household. I don't give a damn how eligible those other bastards are!"

"Then what were your reasons for choosing me?" Reo asked calmly, negating my harsh tone.

"That is of no concern to you," I responded huffily. No matter how hard I tried, I could never seem to get a rise out of Reo. Although the dark haired boy could infuriate me to the point of injury, he seemed unperturbed by my hostility.

Though Reo had only been at the Nightray home for an hour, he had already caused quite an uproar. My brothers and sister had looked upon Reo with disapproving gazes, and my father had been furious, enraged that Reo was my choice for personal attendant. "A filthy, lowly Sablier orphan," my father had called Reo. These words, spoken so condescendingly from my father's lips had brought forth my temper. I had screamed at the old man, telling him ferociously that he knew nothing about Reo, and I would not allow him to insult my servant. Throughout this unfriendly battle, Reo had stood tranquilly at my back. He looked almost as if he had fallen asleep, standing in the entrance hall hunched forward and unspeaking. The only sign showing Reo was still alert was the somewhat self-conscious shifting of his navy boots on the expensive red carpet beneath us. I had tried to read some emotion in his face, some indication of hurt. But this was an impossible task of course, as his newly purchased glasses masked his face even more thoroughly than his onyx hair. Throwing one last vicious glare back at my father, I had dashed out of the hall, making sure to wipe the filthy soles of my boots on my father's valuable carpet. Reo, naturally, had followed close behind.

"Well if it is no concern of mine…" Reo said, and he turned. He walked impassively down the hallway, not glancing back to see if I was following. I watched as his shadow flickered and lengthened on the wall at my side, cast wickedly by the lamplight. I was momentarily mesmerized by the way his hair looked in the silhouette, wild and unkempt as ever, but somehow seeming more ominous.

"Wait!" I shouted, and I trotted after him. I extend my arm ahead of me and grasped Reo's white sleeve. "If you truly wish to know," I growled, "I chose you simply because I wish for an equal, not someone who will kiss my ass. Someone who can speak to me without fearing punishment for what they say. I need a comrade, not a servant."

Reo turned to me, and I staggered in shock at the sight of a rare smile ghosting his lips. An uncomfortable silence followed, and I looked down to realize that my fingers were still gripping Reo's colorless sleeve. I dropped his arm quickly, as if an electric current had suddenly burst out of his wrist.

I stepped back abruptly, distancing myself from Reo, who was gazing solemnly at the arm I had just released.

Reo looked up at me, and the lamp light reflected eerily off of the wide lenses of his glasses. I noticed the small smile that still tugged at the corners of his lips, and to my annoyance, it seemed almost as if Reo was laughing at me. With a single bent forefinger, Reo tenderly pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose to where they balanced precisely between his unseen eyes.

I found myself wanting to step forward; to stretch out my fingers and pull those ridiculously thick lenses away from Reo's eyes. I wanted, no, I longed to see those eyes that he kept so carefully hidden behind his armor of hair and glass.

I shook myself, mentally and physically, trying to rid my mind of these bizarre urges. _What the hell? His eyes are probably the same as everyone else's, why am I getting so agitated because of this? _

_Because, _said a soft voice from the recesses of my mind; the hushed echo was almost drowned out by the whirring of action surrounding it. _How can you trust someone who conceals his face? How can you rely on someone who won't reveal his eyes? If eyes are truly gateways to the soul, he must be hiding something deep within._

I shook my head again, no; I would not doubt my only companion.

"How sentimental," Reo said, bringing me back to the conversation at hand. "The Nightray noble is lonely, and he needs a friend."

I felt anger begin to pound through my veins, but I fought for control. "Funny Reo; I seem to recall that you were just as alone at the orphanage as I was here. You see? We can assist each other. I'm not saying we have to be friends. In fact, I would rather we were not."

Reo's smile widened considerably as I spoke. "Elliot, I think that despite all of your negativity, we are already friends."

With those words barely having left his lips, Reo turned and marched away in silence.

_Was he right? Friends? _I stared after him in disbelief, but his words rang true. I wondered fleetingly if I should have put more thought into my selection. Friends could be dangerous, or so I had heard. I thought back, considering briefly my earlier misgivings. Could I trust someone whose face I had never seen?

I watched Reo drifting down the corridor in the dim lighting, his ebony hair jostling on his shoulders as he walked. I had no reason to doubt him, so I pushed my uncertainties aside.

I rolled my eyes, and I dashed after Reo's fading form. "Get back here you idiot! You don't know where you're going!"

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><p><strong>AN: So, 5th chapter over and done with; I have no idea how long I'm going to make this story. I would like to ask all of my readers: Would you like to see more Romancefluff between Elliot and Reo or do you want me to keep them as "just friends"? Please let me know what you think. ^_^ **

**Thank you to those who have reviewed/favorited (and all who have bothered to read, of course)! xD **


	6. Hopeless

**6**

**Hopeless**

Reo

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><p><em>Click. Click. Bang!<em>

Hopeless.

I groaned when I pushed my hair away from my eyes and saw once more how far away from the target my bullet had hit. I glared down crossly at the gleaming pistol in my hand, silently blaming the weapon for my dreadful aim.

"A servant's duty is to protect his master," I had once read. How was I supposed to guard Elliot with my faulty combat skills? I frowned at the firearm balanced on the palm of my right hand.

Swords were no good, I could never figure out how to hold one properly, and they always felt awkward and unbalanced in my grip. Guns were worse; I had no talent when it came to aiming the small weapon, and my aim would become further skewed when I actually fired. This problem could have been fixed easily of course, with a small haircut. But then I would have to see…

_No!_ I immediately shrunk back from the idea; the thought of exposing my face - my eyes - to the unbearable radiance around me. It was beyond consideration, certainly. I would block out the horrifying luminescence for as long as I possibly could, cloaked and hidden behind a curtain of dark hair.

But if it was for Elliot's sake…?

I shuddered, and I shook my head to free myself from the terrifying thoughts. My fist clenched around the grip of the handgun.

I lifted the gun slowly and leveled the weapon at shoulder height, just as Elliot's adoptive brother Gilbert had shown me. I raised my left hand to clasp the opposite side of the gun, attempting in vain to steady my hold on the grip. I closed my left eye, and I tried desperately to align the sights on the gun's barrel with the chest of the dummy in front of me. The attempt was going to be yet another failure, I could already tell as my arms swayed clumsily. I squinted down the barrel of the gun, struggling hopelessly to focus. I fought a futile battle with the polished steel weapon, endeavoring unsuccessfully to wrestle the gun into submission. Trying was no use, I could not even see the sights – nor the target - through my glasses and thick screen of hair; no hope existed of me being able to line them up correctly.

I sighed; practice seemed to be getting me nowhere. I fired, feeling the gun kick in my hands as a bullet flew out of the barrel's end. My ears throbbed from the shock of the sudden deafening noise, and my elbows jarred painfully.

I swept my hair out of my eyes and peered hopefully at the target in front of me. The dummy remained unscathed; the eyeless face seemed to leer at me, amused by my failure. I observed my surroundings, wondering where my most recent shot had landed. My eyes fell on a smoking hole in the wall at the dummy's back. This newest opening was encircled by multiple others, all decorating the tolerant brick barrier.

I sighed again, and I allowed my bangs to fall back into my eyes, veiling my face once more. "I give up," I muttered to myself, feeling utterly depressed by my incapability.

I carefully unloaded the chamber of the gun. The small metallic bullets rolled dismally on my palm; I gazed at them dejectedly. How could I act as a bodyguard to Elliot with my severe lack of ability?

"Elliot sure picked himself an incompetent fellow didn't he?" said a calm voice from behind me.

I let out a short gasp of surprise; I had assumed I was alone. I spun quickly, and I immediately recognized the light brown hair and soft blue-green eyes of the man who stood before me as belonging to Elliot's elder brother Ernest.

I had supposed his words were meant to be insulting. But I could see from the gentle wrinkling at the corners of his eyes and the smile gracing his lips that he did not intend the question as an offense.

"Oh, yes, this is an impossible task for me. I have absolutely no gift for these devices," I said. I held up the pistol with my thumb and forefinger, letting the gun dangle from my fingertips as if it were something revolting.

Ernest laughed. "Where did you even find that?" he asked.

"Gilbert gave it to me," I replied.

One of Ernest's straight brown eyebrows quirked upwards slightly at my response, and he gazed at me curiously. "Really now? And why did he do that?"

I stood unmoving under his inquisitive stare, but I uneasily pushed my glasses farther up the bridge of my nose. "A servant should protect his master," I said.

Ernest laughed again. "And how are you planning on defending Elliot with no understanding on how to handle any sort of weapon." He glanced pointedly at the undamaged mannequin ahead of us and the charred crevices in the brick wall.

I knew he was not seeking to offend, but I couldn't help the light touch of anger that brushed through me. I was trying. I was doing my best, for Elliot.

"I will do whatever I must," I said resolutely. I raised the bottom half of my jacket, and I carefully tucked the pistol into the waistband of my pallid slacks. I let the ammunition slip off of my palm one at a time, and I watched, captivated, as they tumbled into the soft folds of my pockets.

When I looked up at Ernest once more, he was smiling at me kindly; the first compassionate expression directed my way since I had arrived at the Nightray mansion a week before.

"That's a good lad, look after my younger brother." Ernest said, and he turned. With a gentle swish of his black coat he was gone as quickly as he had appeared, withdrawing into the depths of the Nightray estate.

When he had vanished into the sprawling mansion, I considered his request thoughtfully. What could I do to make sure Elliot would never be harmed? He was masterful with a sword, and I… what was I good for? My domain was books and piano compositions; what use could I be if Elliot was in danger?

I looked down at my open hands; small palms, surrounded by the long graceful fingers of a pianist. _Who needs weapons? _I thought, recalling the day in the library at the orphanage when I had almost bludgeoned two boys to death with my own hands. _As long as I posses these hands, I have the ability, the means, to defend Elliot. These hands that used to be good for nothing more than the turning of pages and pressing of keys; these hands will be my strength. I will tear down his enemies… _

"I will," I said decisively, and I clenched both of my hands into fists. I spoke to the open air, making a whispered promise to the surrounding world and to the cerulean sky above me; a vow I would keep.

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><p><strong>AN: So, I've already written part of the next chapter, and it should contain some fluffromance. Thank you to everyone who reviewed/read/favorited! Please continue to let me know what you think ^_^ **


	7. Restless

**7**

**Restless**

Elliot

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><p>I turned and flipped violently onto my side. My thighs thudded noisily into the solid mattress beneath me, and the bedding dug painfully into my waist. I viciously punched the stiff pillows beneath my head, hoping to beat the damn things into submission, so I could finally fall asleep. I desired rest; my body ached with the need to relax, to be claimed by the darkness surrounding me, and pulled into a deep slumber. I longed to be able to shut my exhausted eyes and heavy eyelids, but sleep evaded me. I sighed and pressed my face more firmly into my pillow, attempting to smother myself into slumber.<p>

I tossed restlessly again, shifting angrily beneath the glossy covers. The smooth sheets wound around my legs, tangling around my bare calves with their silken warmth. I kicked impatiently at the soft sheets, trying to free myself from the strangling grip they had on my ankles; they felt more smothering than tender.

I lay still, momentarily giving up on my hopeless restlessness. I was caught anyways - like a distressed fly in a spider's web - by the constricting sheets that twisted around my legs. Motionless, I observed my pitch black bedroom, listening and watching the night that enveloped me.

The room around me was quiet, and the silence pressed against me ruthlessly from all sides causing the air to feel stiflingly thick and heavy. The darkness bore down on my open eyes, and I strained to see – to see anything - in the gloomy bedroom. I stared blindly up at the canopy I knew hung somewhere far above my head; the crimson cloth was there, I knew it was, but no matter how much I squinted my eyes, I could not see it.

I was abruptly seized by terror, as irrational is it may be. My breaths began to come faster; my heart pounded erratically inside my rib cage. The fear was not of the darkness, no; the panic I felt was a fear of the blank emptiness around me. With all of my senses clogged by the suffocating night, I felt utterly alone. This absurd fear, of solitude, was born from countless years on my own.

_I'm alone._

_I'm so alone._

I sat up hastily and stared at my surroundings; my eyes were wide but unseeing. I pulled at the collar of my night shirt in a useless attempt to loosen the restraining cloth. My fingers fumbled with the top buttons of my shirt as my eyes gazed blindly at the room around me. I waited, hardly able to breathe and praying that my eyes would adjust; but all the while the darkness grew more threatening.

Unable to contain my growing panic any longer, I untangled myself from the restrictive sheets, growling ferociously when they refused to release their possessive grip on my legs. I bent at the waist and ripped the irritating ruby cloth away from my body.

I stood at the foot of the canopy bed, staring wildly. I closed my eyes, forcing calm into my adrenaline-high blood stream. I waited until the thundering sound of my heartbeats had slowed to a dull throbbing pulse, and then I reopened my weary eyes.

I ran clammy fingers shakily through my hair, and I stumbled in the direction of my window. The moonlight caused the curtains to glow softly, and I could see the vague outline of the glass panes behind the thick drapes.

Each step I took was tentative and unsteady as my bare feet slid hesitantly over the firm wooden floor. I breathed deeply when I felt the cool night air sweep by me, brushing my ruffled brown hair out of my face. Away from the confines of my four-poster bed and the restraining sheets, I felt calmer but also more drained. I staggered wearily towards the window, consumed by fatigue but unable to sleep.

I tripped over my own feet, sliding on the wood floor boards and tilting forward precariously. I reached out before me, my fingers searching desperately for something to prevent my fall. My palm connected with the rough fabric of the long curtains. I frantically grasped the bulky cloth drapes between my fingers, and I pulled myself back into an upright position.

I clutched the edges of the coarse material as if they were a lifeline. I tore open the curtains, bathing my bedroom in soft silvery moonlight. I sighed in relief as my surroundings came into focus, and the loneliness dissipated with the darkness.

My knees buckled as I was hit by a wave of exhausted serenity. I sighed contentedly once again as I collapsed onto the wooden floorboards; they creaked quietly in response to the sudden shift of weight. I closed my eyes, not caring that I was seated inelegantly on the cold floor. If sleep would be merciful, I would gratefully take whatever rest I was offered. My mind drifted away at a quick pace this time, the moonlit slumber collecting me generously.

I was startled out of my partial-dozing state by a soft noise from behind me. It was at that moment I remembered I was not alone in my room, not anymore. I stood cautiously, using the windowsill to assist me in regaining my balance.

My gaze swept over to the opposite side of the room, to the small settee where I knew Reo devotedly slept. In the dim lighting from the moonlit window, I could faintly make out the indistinct curving back of the chaise lounge. Glancing guiltily at the drawn curtains at my back, I wondered if the sudden change in lighting had roused him.

The remorse faded quickly, and I grinned evilly, hoping Reo would be angry that I had disturbed him. Unlikely of course, but I couldn't help myself as I walked towards the couch, my steps steadier than they had been earlier. I frowned in disappointment when I noticed that there was no movement coming from the couch, but I was intent on checking whether or not Reo was asleep.

I grabbed onto the dark velvet covering on the sloping back of the settee and peered down at Reo; he lay fully extended on the long couch. He was breathing slowly, his slim chest rising and falling leisurely beneath his thick woolen blanket. I glared down at him irritably, envious of the serene expression he wore even in sleep. He was truly aggravating. I felt the sudden urge to snatch the pillow from beneath his head and beat the peaceful look off of his face.

I suppressed the aggressive feelings, and I turned away from Reo's sleeping form. I yawned, and I eyed my bed wistfully. I considered walking back to the embrace of the soft red sheets, but instead I glanced back down at Reo. _Such a carefree expression…almost happy,_ I thought as I gazed down at the slumbering boy.

I folded my arms on top of the settee, and I rested my chin in the hollow created by the crisscrossing limbs. I watched Reo sleep. That calm look on his face was so…alluring.

Reo was nearly motionless while he slept. The dark black fringe hiding his face fluttered softly with each breath that passed between Reo's slightly parted lips. The tips of his onyx hair brushed calmly against his slender shoulders. His chest moved up and down in a consistent hypnotizing cycle.

I lifted my head and leaned forward to watch him more closely. The situation was almost comical- me so avidly watching Reo sleep-, and I had to fight to hold back my laughter. My resentment of Reo's effortless slumber had entirely vanished, and I was left with an odd sense of curiosity.

So it came to be that I was balanced unsteadily on the back board of the couch on which Reo slept, cautiously tilting farther forward. Even in slumber his jet black hair faithfully concealed his features, and only his mouth was visible. I felt frustration begin to churn in my stomach once again, angered by the fact that I would not be able to see Reo's face even at his most unguarded and vulnerable moment. My anger died quickly, however, when my eyes trailed slowly down to Reo's exposed lips. _So feminine…_

My stomach tightened with a new emotion, one I did not experience often. I was so accustomed to the constant flares of scorching fury, and the clenched fist of decisiveness and determination that this emotion – this feeling of awkwardness and confusion – was half forgotten.

The confusion was triggered by the thoughts I had as I stared down at Reo's peaceful, defenseless features. The perverse thoughts swirled in my mind as I watched his softly tinted lips. For a moment, a mere second before I had caught myself, I found myself wondering what Reo's lips would feel like. Could they really be as soft as they appeared? What would he taste like?

I had never kissed. Truly, I had never given much thought to the idea. What was so appealing about two people being fastened together by their lips? The concept was disturbing and not at all a pleasant one. I had never once known a girl with whom I had felt any inclination of carrying out such a nauseating act. In fact, I had yet to meet a girl I could even see eye to eye with.

But as I leaned over Reo's sleeping form, I found my eyes drawn to the mouth partially hidden beneath his dark bangs; the small lips a delicate shade of pink. I watched him intently, gazing down at him inquisitively, and staring breathlessly at those flushed lips. Danger signals began to go off in my head as I leaned farther forward, but I ignored them, pushing them roughly, angrily, aside. I continued to bend forward until my face was mere centimeters away from Reo, my lips hovering hesitantly above his.

Curiosity.

Curiosity is what led me to lightly brush my lips over my sleeping servant's, my inexperienced lips gently grazing Reo's motionless ones. I gasped faintly. The sensation was astonishing, and I ceased breathing as I felt how beautifully soft Reo's lips truly were.

I wanted desperately to press my mouth more forcefully, firmly against Reo's, to experience the overwhelming feelings more deeply, but I was startled from my captivated trance by a soft noise from the sleeping form beneath me.

The spell broken, I realized the awkwardness of the situation. I was precariously slung across the back board of the settee, my hips balanced uncomfortably as I bent over Reo. I jerked backwards quickly, shocked at what I had done. I felt heat rush to my cheeks, and I knew that I must be an unpleasant shade of red. I scrubbed my lips roughly with the back of my hand, and I stared wide-eyed down at Reo. I let out a shallow breath of gratitude when I noticed that he was still sleeping soundly.

I continued to viciously rub my lips as I backed away from the settee on which Reo's sleeping form rested. My mind was still in a state of shock. What had I done? I had just kissed my servant – another boy for god's sake! And not just any boy, I had kissed Reo… and I had liked it_._ True, I had never been attracted to girls, but that was just because the girls at my school were annoying, right? I would get older and meet other girls, girls who weren't aggravating, and I would like them…surely…

I stumbled back to my bed, not even the moonlight pouring in through the large windows could stop me from tripping over my own feet. My mind was filled with a darkness, an emptiness, that was all its own.

I lurched towards my four-poster bed, and when I reached it, I flung myself gracelessly down on the crimson sheets. I hid my face in my arms as confusion took over, pressing down with even more force than the darkness had earlier. I was left powerless, scrambling frantically for my sanity. My psyche was in a disordered condition, slowly approaching a mental break down. I fought to stay in control while at the same time trying to push thoughts of what I had just done to the back of my mind.

The familiar bubbles of anger began to boil in my stomach. I clutched my abdomen with one hand, gritting my teeth. With the other hand, I fisted the dark red cloth beneath me. _That bastard Reo. What did he do? He must have done something to make me think such things, to make me want to do something like that – to make me enjoy it. What has he done to me?_

My fingers left the scarlet sheets and gripped my hair brutally. I shivered, although the night was warm. How would I face Reo in the morning? My mind spun, my stomach clenched, and my heart pounded.

No, I would not find sleep that night.

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><p><strong>AN: I apologize for taking so long with this chapter, but I hope everyone enjoyed it. As always, please let me know your thoughts xD <strong>**Thank you for reading/reviewing!**


	8. Apprehension

**8**

**Apprehension**

Reo

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><p>I licked my thumb and forefinger with a soft flick of my tongue, and I carefully turned to the next page of the copy of <em>Holy Knight <em>I had borrowed from Elliot. My legs swung impatiently, dangling a foot off of the ground as I perched on the low brick wall surrounding the courtyard in front of the Nightray estate. My heels clicked softly against the brick, marking the aggravatingly drawn out seconds. I held the book before me, and my eyes trailed distractedly from word to word.

Finally, unable to contain my irritation any longer, I closed the hard bound book with a sharp snap and leapt off of the undersized wall.

_Where is that idiot? He's making everybody wait._ I glanced around to see Elliot's brothers Ernest and Claude sitting by the delayed carriage wearing similar expressions of annoyance. _He's the one who wanted to take me back to 'visit' that orphanage._

My thoughts were interrupted by a yell coming from the side of the mansion. I looked up through the wide lenses of my glasses to see Elliot sprinting down the steps and across the courtyard, his hair and clothes in various states of disarray.

Elliot ended his run as he came to an unbalanced halt by my side. I glared at him crossly, though I knew he would not be able to see my irritated expression.

"There you are, finally," Ernest called, and Elliot glanced up at his brother.

"Yeah, sorry," he muttered, not sounding at all apologetic.

I rolled my eyes when I realized that Elliot was not even completely dressed; he was still pulling on his black collared jacket as we made our way towards the carriage waiting patiently on the cobblestone road. Elliot's fingers fumbled with the navy fabric at his throat, attempting to knot the loose ribbon into a bow.

Heaving a resigned sigh, I brushed his inept hands aside and gently tied the dark blue strip of cloth. I glanced up at Elliot, only to find that he was not looking back at me. In fact, it seemed he was altogether avoiding my gaze.

I frowned slightly. Elliot was still doing this? For the past two weeks Elliot had been purposely evading me, I could not understand why, but he had hardly spoken a word or looked in my direction.

I slowly let my hands fall from the ribbon around Elliot's neck.

"Thank you," Elliot said curtly, still not looking at me.

I followed quietly as Elliot stepped into the small carriage. He sat down on the red velvet seat and immediately turned to gaze blankly out the window. I seated myself across from him without a word.

"Well then, you two. Be good," said Ernest, peering into the carriage. He was obviously unaware of the tense mood within.

Elliot's posture became rigid, and he quickly turned to his elder brother. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Aren't you coming with us?" I detected the slight hint of panic in Elliot's voice, and this caused me to feel even more confused.

Did he truly want so badly to not be alone with me?

"I think you are old enough to go by yourself, Elliot. Anyways, Reo will be with you. Claude and I have other matters to attend, we cannot watch over you all day," Ernest said, and he closed the carriage door. I vaguely heard Ernest say something to the driver, and with a sudden start the carriage jolted forward.

I listened to the sharp clatter of the horses' hooves against stone. I glanced up at Elliot as the carriage jostled along the bumpy road. He was still staring determinedly out the window, doing his absolute best to ignore me.

"Elliot, what is wrong?" I asked quietly, barely audible over the pounding of the horse's hooves and the creaking of the wooden carriage, but I knew that Elliot had heard me.

"Nothing," he responded bluntly, not drawing his eyes away from the window.

"You have barely spoken to me in weeks, obviously something is troubling you," I said, and I examined Elliot carefully through the dark strands of hair covering my eyes.

"I told you, it's nothing," he replied sharply.

I had endured enough, and I stood shakily, trying to balance within the merrily bouncing carriage. I cautiously closed the distance between myself and Elliot and stood unstably before him.

"If nothing is wrong, then look at me," I said.

Elliot's blue-green eyes flickered over my face, finally a brief glance in my direction. But seeing those turquoise eyes, and the strange nervous emotion in their swirling ocean depths had proved my suspicions to be true and strengthened my resolve. As Elliot's eyes drifted back towards the window, I reacted by instinct. I reached out, slipped my fingers beneath Elliot's chin, and forcibly turned his head so that his soft cerulean gaze met my hidden one.

Elliot seemed shocked by my actions, and so he did not immediately react to the abrupt contact.

I too was rather surprised by what I had done, a servant so roughly touching his master without consent? I was in trouble for sure once Elliot regained his composure. "There. That's better. You always say such insensitive things, Elliot. It's one of your greatest flaws," I said, trying to hold onto the control I possessed for the moment. "Now why don't you tell me what is bothering you."

I watched Elliot's face for some form of reaction, and I was stunned by what I saw: an almost imperceptible blush painting Elliot's pale cheeks a soft pink. I stared, dumbfounded. Had Elliot ever blushed before? No, not that I knew of.

Elliot's eyes hardened, turning suddenly into angry slits. "Let go of me Reo!" he roared, and placing both hands firmly on my chest, he shoved me back towards the opposite side of the carriage.

I stumbled slightly before falling meekly to my knees on the wooden carriage floor.

Elliot was looking at me now, an enraged expression twisting his face into a mask of fury, wrath glinting in his blue-green eyes. "I told you! There is nothing wrong!" he screamed ferociously at me.

I felt the familiar grip of tranquility invade my senses as it always did when Elliot flew into one of his turbulent tempers. I stood calmly, carefully brushing of my dark jacket and black slacks. "Elliot. As your servant, no, as your friend, I would expect you to tell me if something was worrying you," I said evenly.

Elliot's gaze softened, and his entire body seemed to relax gradually as his anger fell away. "Really Reo, it's nothing. I've just been feeling a little strange lately. I'm sorry if I have been discourteous to you."

I knew by the way Elliot's eyes shifted uncomfortably towards the window that he was not telling the truth, at least not entirely.

"Discourteous? Elliot, you haven't spoken to me or looked at me directly in days. Please tell me what I have done wrong."

Elliot's steely glare was back as he glanced at me. "It has nothing to do with you!" he yelled, and I knew that even he must hear the obvious lie in his voice. "I mean, it's not your fault. I-" He cut himself short abruptly, clamping his moth shut as if he had said too much.

I was left as confused as ever, and I stared at Elliot, waiting for him to continue. When the light–haired boy showed no signs of doing such, I prompted him with a casual 'you…what?'

Elliot did not respond immediately, seeming to have taken a liking to staring out the window once more. But slowly his eyes slid back to me, piercing me through and pinning me where I stood as he spoke. "Reo, I-" he began, and he shifted uncomfortably. He glanced at the floor, and apparently finding the polished dark wood easier to look at than me, that is where his gaze remained.

"The other night," Elliot said, staring over. "Well, I couldn't sleep, you see, and to ease my boredom I tried to wake you up."

"Oh," I said, blinking rapidly. This had not been what I expected, but obviously something had happened to cause Elliot some discomfort.

Suddenly, I clapped a hand over my mouth, feeling my cheeks heat slightly beneath my fingertips.

_Oh god…I didn't say something weird did I?_

Elliot, not noticing my embarrassment, continued. "I opened up the blinds, I made a lot of noise, and I even pushed you, but you wouldn't wake up. So, just to mess with you…I sort of…."

Elliot's last words were completely drowned out by the noisy trotting of the horses and the bouncing carriage, but I watched as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink once more.

"What?" I asked.

Elliot, looking slightly angry again, was saved the trouble of repeating himself as our carriage jerked to a sudden halt.

"Come on," Elliot grumbled brusquely, and he pushed open the carriage door. He leapt quickly out of the carriage, not bothering to use the steps. He pulled his stiff black collar higher to conceal his slightly rosy cheeks and mumbled a few incoherent words to the carriage driver, probably a 'thank you' and some form of instructions for when we would be returning to the Nightray estate.

With that, Elliot turned rigidly on his heel and stormed angrily towards the small dusty hovel which served as the Sablier orphanage.

The building was composed of an ancient wooden roof and a dirty brick exterior with smeared glass windows set at even intervals in the walls. The depressing structure was surrounded on three of its four sides by barren rock.

Momentarily sweeping the dark fringe of hair out of my eyes, I gazed sadly at the decrepit place I had grown up in. In only a couple of months my life had changed so entirely, and to such a tremendous degree. No, I did not miss this old existence. I had a new life, a better one, and above all else, I finally had a friend – an equal – to share it with.

Smiling softly to myself, I hurried after Elliot.


	9. Emptiness

**9**

**Emptiness**

Reo

* * *

><p>As soon as I stepped over the threshold of the dingy orphanage, the place I used to call home, I knew that something was terribly wrong. The air around me was thick with emotion: grief, worry, and fear. The dull interior before me was not the same mildly cheerful orphanage I had left.<p>

Elliot seemed to sense the mood too, and he moved cautiously through the gloom, taking halting steps forward. I reluctantly followed, dreading what I might see.

I looked up when I heard a soft noise ahead of us. I glanced down the hallway to where a young woman dressed in black was leading a small group of children towards the opposite end of the corridor. Their faces were illuminated softly by the lamps set high on the passageway wall, and by the flickering light, I could see the fear shining in the children's eyes.

Elliot promptly noticed the woman too, and he jogged swiftly after her, his sheathed sword clanking against his thigh. I followed at a slower pace, watching as the woman disappeared around a bend in the hallway.

"Excuse me miss!" Elliot called after the young lady, showing a rare instant of civility; and he raised his hand slightly to seize her attention.

The woman turned slowly to face Elliot, and I took a surprised step backwards at the empty expression in her eyes. Her eyes glittered a soft emerald in the lamplight, but they were void of all emotion. Soulless. "Can I help you?" she asked quietly.

Her jade eyes passed over me and lit slightly with recognition. "You...Reo. You're back?"

I shook my head, staring at the woman. The curly black hair and light green eyes looked familiar, and I tried hopelessly to remember her name. I searched my mind urgently, not wanting to appear rude.

Elliot stepped in, thankfully covering the uncomfortable moment. "Miss, what is happening? There seems to be something wrong." he said, addressing the sorrowful woman.

The young woman glanced at Elliot and bent quickly. She whispered unintelligible words into the ear of one of the children she had been guiding down the dim hall. The child nodded and grabbed the hands of the other two children. I recognized none of the children; they must have only recently arrived at the orphanage. I felt a soft pang of homesickness at the thought. Even without me there, the orphanage was still in motion. Children would come and go, and the memory of the odd pianist who never showed his eyes would fade.

I watched in mild solemnity as the three children scampered down the corridor to where another young woman dressed entirely in black stood waiting for them.

"A few of the children," said the dark haired woman before us, meeting Elliot's gaze shakily. "A few of the orphans went out this morning…and they disappeared into the chasm." The woman stopped and bowed her head, her shoulders shaking slightly with suppressed tears. "We don't know what to do! The orphans went, even though we have told them that it is not allowed!"

I stared at the young woman in fearful shock as she doubled over once more with the weight of silent sobs. Having been raised at the Sablier orphanage, I had heard all the stories about the chasm. Supposedly the capital city of one hundred years ago, Sablier, had been demolished and pulled into the ground by an earthquake. At least this was the tale all of the orphans were told, but after my short time living in the Nightray estate, I had come to learn the truth: the large empty black pit located beside the orphanage was all that was left of the capital Sablier, for over one hundred years ago the entirety of the ancient capital had fallen into the Abyss.

I glanced at Elliot to see that he was staring incredulously at the dark haired young woman. "The children went into the chasm?" he asked.

The woman nodded. "Yes," she whispered breathlessly.

Elliot stared at her for a few moments longer before he spun unexpectedly on his heel. "Damn," he said. "We can't wait for Pandora to arrive. Let's go Reo!"

I reached out to snatch at his coat tails, which fluttered up at his sides when he turned, as he abruptly dashed down the corridor and ran back the way we had come. "Elliot! Wait a second." I called after him as the dark cloth of his black jacket slipped by my fingers far too quickly for me to grab a hold of the sleek material.

"I said, let's go!" Elliot yelled without turning around as he ran out of the old, crumbling building.

I stared after him for a moment, frozen by astonishment and watching the darkly clothed slim figure gradually fade from sight, his light brown hair a disheveled mess atop his head. "Damn," I muttered softly to myself, before I felt the corners of my lips turn upward in a small smile. I flattened my dark hair over my eyes, finger-combing it roughly into place so that the dark locks would serve their purpose in obstructing my vision. "I suppose I have no choice."

Spurring myself into motion, I followed Elliot as he raced towards the dark, seemingly bottomless pit at the heart of the city.

* * *

><p>"Careful Elliot," I whispered, grabbing Elliot's wrist as he tripped over a small lump of rock protruding from the uneven ground. I steadied Elliot, who then roughly pulled his hand out of my grasp. He plowed determinedly onward, his turquoise eyes searching the shadows for the small forms of orphan children. I followed without hesitation.<p>

I took in my desolate surroundings as we walked: the dreary rocks, empty broken down buildings, and scattered rubble. I sighed softly and closed my eyes. Everything looked the same. Every turn, every individual path, all of it was a bleak, never-ending span of rock. This place had all the qualities of a graveyard, which I suppose is exactly what it was. The silence was louder than any noise could have been, and even when I spoke, the sheer vastness around me seemed to smother the sound, making it faint and withdrawn. The infinite chasm seemed to drop eternally beneath my boots, spiraling downwards in a deserted tumult of wreckage. Loneliness, and the sorrow of the tragedy which had come to pass in the capital city of Sablier, hung heavily in the air, weighing down on my shoulders the farther I walked into the dismal pit.

I watched my step as I carefully tread over the rocky ground. How long had we been walking? Who knew…the emptiness seemed to swallow the very meaning of time, leaving the chasm unchanging, ageless, and forlorn.

Eventually I paused, leaning against the rock which made up the entirety of the vacant world. I was exhausted; though I was sure we could not have been walking for very long. I sighed and glanced down at the ground, shuffling my feet in an attempt to move myself into a more comfortable position against the jagged rock.

Even through my distracted struggle for comfort, I managed to notice something as I gazed at the lightly colored rock beneath me. Something that stood out against the pale gray surface: something red.

I knelt carefully to take a closer look at the crimson substance, and I realized almost immediately what it was.

I lifted my chin and saw that there was a trail of the ruby liquid flowing from beyond the next turn. I felt my heart pounding within my chest. I knew what lay ahead of me, I knew what I would see once I turned the corner.

"Elliot…"I whispered, trying to keep my voice calm.

I heard the light scuffing the soles of Elliot's boots made as he shuffled across the stone flooring to stand by my side. "What?" he asked, and I felt his questioning stare on the back of my head.

Slowly, with dread making it almost impossible, I stood. "I-I think I found…them." I said, unable to keep the slight hitch out of my voice.

I felt Elliot's gaze remain on my back as I took a step forward, dazed. I rounded the corner in a trance, resigned to the sight I knew lay on the other side.

I heard Elliot's sharp intake of breath as he followed and took in the gruesome scene.

My stomach churned, twisting into a knotted mass as bile rose in the back of my throat. I was going to be sick, but still I could not pull me eyes away from the horrific sight.

Blood.

Never had I seen so much blood. The glistening red liquid spread across the stone, dying what was once gray a deep shade of red: the same deep crimson color as rose petals, adorning the barren ground.

The blood pooled on the floor surrounding two limp bodies: small bodies. The orphans, I had indeed found them… too late. Each motionless child had a hole in the center of its chest, as if they had been impaled with a sharp weapon. The light clothing they wore was decorated with ruby smudges and splatters.

I stood in shocked silence, staring at the lifeless bodies floating in puddles of their own blood, watching as the crimson droplets poured across the rocks, filling the gaps and cracks in-between.

A soft noise pulled me out of my horrified reverie: a small sound, a sound I recognized instantly after all my years at the orphanage. It was the sound of a child sobbing. And it was this small, frightened sound that gave me hope and allowed my heart to pulse, my lungs to gasp, and my legs to move once more.

_Could one of them still be alive?_ I thought, and I immediately took off, sprinting through the dark passageways formed by the towering rocks.

Distantly, I could hear Elliot shouting my name, but I kept running.

_Was there a chance? Could there still be a child alive?_ I kept this thought, this small hope, holding onto it as I ran clumsily across the rocky surface. I silently cursed my formal clothing, the fitted dark jacket and trousers. _I could run so much faster if it wasn't for these ridiculous-_

It was then that I spotted the small figure hunched over behind yet another collection of rough stone. A child. She was wearing a soft white night gown, and her wavy blonde hair fell over her slouched shoulders. I knew that hair; I recognized the gentle golden waves vaguely, as if pulling the memories through the cloud of a half forgotten dream.

"Helen!" I yelled as I ran toward the small form, finally recalling the young blonde's name. Yes, she had been one of the friendlier, kinder, and more compassionate orphans during my stay.

The girl raised her head in surprise, her eyes shining with fear and tears streaming down her cheeks to collect elegantly beneath her jaw.

I knelt in front of her cautiously.

"Re – Reo…brother…" Helen sobbed, and she raised her small fists to her face, rubbing at the tears streaking across her freckled skin.

"Helen," I said softly. "What happened here?" I vaguely heard the stomping of boots against stone, announcing that Elliot had caught up. The light haired boy came to stand behind me, leaving a safe distance so as not to scare the small girl.

The blonde girl's graceful shoulders shook with fresh sobs, soft whimpers escaping her lips. "Jo- John started acting strange," she sniffed, and I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, pulling her to my chest. "And then-"

The girl was never able to finish her sentence; she was cut off by a sharp cry from behind me and a flurry of sudden motion.

"Reo!" came the strangled shout from Elliot, who was still positioned at my back. I turned to look at him, confused.

Elliot's turquoise eyes were not looking at me however. His whirling blue-green eyes were wide in fear, but it wasn't fear for himself, I realized, it was fear for me. Those eyes were locked on something in front of us, and slowly I began to sense a sinister presence at my back. I spun hastily again to face this evil being.

I felt my eyes widen in horror, my lips part slightly in astonishment at the sight of the creature before me. I wished momentarily that my dark hair could completely obscure my vision, and block the monstrosity from my view. Maybe then I could have hidden, or at least pretended _it _was not there.

The creature did not have a body; it was merely a gigantic ghastly head floating in midair with tiny arms and legs seeming to stick out of its abnormally large jaw. Two empty black eyes stared down at me, with a triangle of what could have been six more positioned directly in the center of its head.

I barely had time to notice the eyes, however, as the creature's most alarming feature, its enormous mouth, was open wide in front of me. The monster's teeth were huge, each one probably larger than my entire head. I felt nauseous again when I noticed the blood staining the creature's porcelain teeth. I could _smell_ that blood, the disgusting coppery scent on the repulsive creature's breath. I noticed fearfully that the monstrosity's tongue was shaped like the point of a knife, and I realized with a sickening jolt that this was without a doubt the sharp object which had slaughtered the other orphans.

Not knowing what else to do, and frozen by terror, I pulled the wailing Helen behind me, covering her small body with my own.

I heard the soft scraping of metal on metal as Elliot unsheathed his sword, preparing to fight the vile beast. The black metal blade glinted in the dim light, and I watched through my thick bangs as Elliot ran forward. He charged with his slim sword held at the ready, until he was standing directly behind me, glaring up at the monstrous creature.

I never saw what happened next, for as the creature's blade-like tongue darted forward, heading directly towards me, I squeezed me eyes shut, not wishing to witness my approaching demise. I silently readied myself to be impaled by the sharp point. I sensed the warm body in my arms go limp as Helen fainted from fright. I heard the whoosh as something brushed past my face, knocking my glasses to the ground, and I felt the relief when I thought the creature must have missed.

I felt relief that is, until I heard Elliot's sharp intake of breath, and a warm, wet substance splattered across my cheeks.

Slowly, disbelievingly, I opened my eyes, my gaze searching frantically for Elliot. He was alright; he had to be. He was just fi-

My eyes swept upward at the sound of a pained gasp, which was immediately echoed by one of my own as my eyes locked on my master.

Elliot hung in midair above me, with the creature's tongue piercing through his torso and holding him off the ground. His left hand clutched desperately at the blade-like tongue, as if attempting to rip it out of his chest. His navy jacket was darkened by the stain of blood that spread from the fatal wound on his upper body. The crimson liquid dripped leisurely down onto the stones beneath me, and I realized with growing horror that the wetness on my cheeks was Elliot's blood.

I felt my body begin to shake, my entire body quivering from a mixture of shock, grief, anger, and fear.

_How could this happen?_

_Elliot…?_

_Why! Why am I so useless! I can't do anything. I couldn't do anything…. Worthless. Worthless._

I covered my eyes with my shaking hands, hoping the sight was not real. No, it could not be, it was a nightmare.

Elliot let out a shuddering gasp from above me, and immediately my chin jerked upwards. Elliot's right hand, which dangled uselessly at his side, still grasped his sword, but his fingers shook weakly. _He was alive! There was a chance, there always had to be. I would never let Elliot die in a place like this_.

"Elli…ot…?" I managed in a bare whisper. "Stop…"

I looked up at the horrendous creature that had so grievously wounded Elliot, and my anger and fear allowed me to find my voice. "Stop it!" I screamed, and to my great surprise, the monster seemed to understand.

Slowly, the tongue was pulled from Elliot's chest with a nauseating wet suctioning noise, and he fell onto the rocky ground. His limp body made a loud thudding sound as it came in contact with the stones, and his sword clanged pointlessly beside him.

I crawled towards Elliot's still form, forcing my shaking limbs to move forward. My eyes were locked on my fallen master. My heart stopped beating for a moment when I saw his closed eyes, and my breaths caught dangerously in my throat.

"…Elliot…" I whispered once more as I approached the unmoving figure. Never had I thought I would see him this way, lifeless in an empty place, alone except for his lowly servant, with blood drenching the front of his coat and smudged at the corners of his mouth. And the utter pain I felt was indescribable. To see a friend slaughtered while I lay helplessly on the ground; the blood of the friend streaking my face, it was agonizing. I felt a dull throbbing in my chest, as if my very heart had been set aflame to leave behind a numb, hollow ache.

I looked up at the monster, with its mouth still wide and tongue lolling out. The revolting creature looked as if it was ready for another attack. I spread my arms out in a vain attempt to hide Elliot from the creature's view, and then I heard it, the softly familiar words from behind me.

"Relax," they said, so quietly that they seemed more to be drifting thoughts than spoken words. "That thing will not harm you."

I tensed in surprise when I felt a hand on my shoulder. _Elliot!_

But, no, Elliot did not stand behind me. I had been tugged backwards by the fingers clenched on my shoulder, falling into a world even emptier than the rocky chasm. I looked around with nothing but my dark bangs to obscure my vision, having lost my second layer of protection – my glasses – earlier. I was surrounded by darkness and softly swirling lights; the lights were smudged as if they were the fingerprints of some ethereal creature, forming glowing splotches around my kneeling form. Strange figures encompassed me, shrouded in a ghostly illumination. The figures stood around me in a circle, their shape and form distorted by their strange luminescence. I examined my surroundings disinterestedly, blocked as my senses were by grief.

"It was only following its instinct to protect you," the same gentle voice spoke again. "It probably thought that boy was trying to hurt you."

The voice was familiar; I had heard it before. The voice, resounding deeply through the darkness was one that I had heard often when I was younger. The lights, glittering dully and decorating the darkness around me, like stars in a night sky, yes, I had seen them all before. The sounds – the voice – only I could hear, and the strange, otherworldly lights that only I could see.

"You again!" I yelled through gritted teeth, and I closed my eyes. The lights – sparkling and golden were the reason I had grown my hair so long. I had tried so desperately to block out these voices, and these visions.

_I don't want to see…_

_I never, ever wanted to see_

"Why now…?" I asked, addressing the radiant figures surrounding me. "Why do you speak to me now after you have been silent for so long!" I needed to get back to reality; I needed to return to Elliot. I had to pull myself from the dark clutches of this vision and the smooth, caressing voices.

"We only left because you rejected us," said one of the figures cloaked in light. "You would not listen, and you refused to see; therefore you denied our existence."

I gazed up at the man, or I supposed it was a man from the masculine sound of his voice. "Shut up…" I whispered. _I don't want to hear it…I don't want to see you._

The man ignored me and continued. "Hindered by your stubbornness, our memories stayed faint. You rejected us, so we had no other option but to vanish."

"I told you to shut up!" I yelled, trying desperately to block out the voices and regain control.

Once again, the man continued despite my wishes. "But now, even if unconsciously, you were looking for our help."

I gazed at the glowing figure in silence.

"Do you wish to save his life?" the man asked enticingly.

I straightened, my mournful expression becoming optimistic. _Elliot…_I thought of my master- no, my friend, Elliot. Elliot: bleeding on the stone ground within a dark void, dying in an empty place, forgotten and alone, lying beyond the reach of man, resting solely in god's hands. _Of course. Anything, I would do anything to save Elliot. Anything to see those blue-green eyes filled with life and gentle laughter._

"Can you…do that?" I asked softly, gazing hopefully up at the gossamer figure.

The iridescent man seemed to consider me for a moment before speaking. "We can not heal his injuries, but we may be able to seal them." He said. "That boy must drink the creature's blood and speak its name."

"Its name…?" I asked, confused.

"That's right. I apologize but we cannot recall the name anymore," the man said, motioning at the other incandescent figures surrounding me. "You will simply have to guess by looking at it."

I looked up at the unsightly creature, which floated above the dark world created by my vision, and this time something in the back of my mind whirled. What was it? Recognition? I watched the creature quietly for a moment. Somehow I knew.

"Humpty Dumpty?" I asked doubtfully. This was the name, I was sure. But how I was so certain, I did not know.

I glanced up to see if the man recognized the name, but he and all of the other bright figures had disappeared.

I was back in my own reality.

Elliot lay before me, his slender body limp, and the monstrous creature floated ominously above.

With hesitant yet determined fingers I grasped Elliot's sword, which had fallen to his side. Even though I was terrible at wielding any form of weapon, I knew that with a creature as large as the one above me, there was no way I could miss. Aiming at the large creature above me, I thrust the sword's blade upward into its stomach, not enough force to kill, but enough to draw blood.

I dropped the sword to my side immediately after I pierced the beast's flesh, listening as it clattered against the light grey rocks. I drew my arms up immediately to cover my face, expecting to be attacked by the creature. But after a few moments of nothing happening, I let my arms fall back to my sides. I looked up at the hideous creature, now sporting a small wound on its gigantic underside.

Blood dripped from the gash, joining the surge of Elliot's blood across the rocks, seeping and soaking into the stones.

I cautiously approached the steady drip of blood, eyeing the creature warily. I cupped my right hand beneath the streaming red liquid, and it dripped onto my fingers.

I collected the warm essence, letting a fair amount pool in my palm, and then I hurriedly knelt beside Elliot.

I held my fingers gently against Elliot's cold lips, allowing the blood to flow down my fingers and into his awaiting mouth. Instantly, Elliot began to cough, his breaths uneven and labored.

_Elliot…_

"Reo," Elliot gasped, and my heart pounded painfully within my aching chest at the sound of his voice. "What did you…make me drink?"

I opened my mouth to speak. "Elli-" my voice came out cracked and laden with emotion. I could only stare at Elliot, drinking in the wonderful sight of his being alive.

"Leo," Elliot interrupted, panting and gasping softly. "Are you alright?"

I felt a jolt of emotion run me through, a stabbing pain forming once more in my chest at Elliot's words. Guilt.

_How could he ask me such a thing? When it was all my fault…_

"What about …that thing?" Elliot continued, his gasps become louder and more painstaking. "What about…the children?"

I looked down at Elliot, blood was smeared beneath his mouth, and more was pooling at the corners of his lips. His light brown hair was stained red by his life essence. And his eyes, those beautiful turquoise eyes had lost their lively sparkle; they were dull and glazed over as Elliot approached his end.

_I want to see that life again._

"Elliot." I whispered, and I felt tears begin to form in my eyes and slowly streak down my face, gently washing away the blood of my only friend that had previously stained my cheeks. I could not stand to see him broken and lifeless any longer. "Call its name. Say it, Elliot 'Humpty Dumpty'."

Elliot's blank eyes showed his confusion. "Its name…?" he asked haltingly.

"Yes, Elliot," I said. "Come on."

As I waited for Elliot to speak, I felt ghostly fingers wind around my wrist for the second time on that dreary day. I did not look behind me, favoring to keep my eyes locked on Elliot, but the faint glow of the shimmering figure lit the darkness before me. Quietly, with a voice like the sighing of a breeze, smooth and calm, the luminescent man spoke to me once more. "Remember," he said. "That thing was drawn here by your presence, and that boy recklessly risked his life attempting to shield you. Remember that you are the cause of all this. Remember, just because you brought him back to life does not mean that you saved him."

The man leaned towards me slightly, and as he did, the bright glow that had concealed him faded away until I could clearly see his face; a face unnervingly similar to my own, and hidden partially by jet black hair. "Don't forget that you did this!" the man yelled at me with something close to anger burning within the turmoil of his dark violet eyes.

I stared at him for some time, startled by his abruptly harsh words, but then I yanked my arm out of his grasp. I pushed the dark haired man away and fell by Elliot's side.

_All my fault. _The man's words echoed painfully in my head as I looked down upon Elliot's blood slick slender form, a stab wound directly in the center of his chest bathing him in the tide of crimson liquid.

Elliot gazed at me with empty eyes, no recognition sparking in their depths even when I knelt directly before him. "Elliot, say the name!"

For a moment I thought that it might be too late; Elliot's body was motionless, his eyes staring blankly upward, and he appeared to have stopped breathing.

But slowly, his vacant eyes turned my way, and he coughed.

"Hum…pty… Dum…pty," he managed to gasp, his blue-green eyes sliding shut.

_Anything, I would pay any price, make any sacrifice, to have Elliot by my side again._

The name Elliot spoke that day seemed so insignificant at the time, but it was everything: meaningless words that somehow saved a life, and in due course would end not one, but many. With those two small words, my master and only friend became an illegal contractor. Swirling black markings in the shape of a clock bloomed on his chest, directly over his heart.

And Elliot's fate was sealed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I apologize for this chapter being randomly so much longer than the rest~ So this chapter met back up with the actual story, and since Elliot doesn't remember any of this for a while, it is obviously from Reo's point of view. Again, this chapter met back up with the actual storyline for Jun Mochizuki's <em>Pandora Hearts<em>. I have already written most of the next chapter, and it should be up tomorrow or Monday. Thank you to all who read/reviewed/favorited!**


	10. Reality

**10**

**Reality**

Elliot

* * *

><p>Blood.<p>

I was surrounded by blood. I lay in a pool, a flowing river of the crimson fluid. When I lifted my fingers to my eyes they were dripping and smeared with red. I felt the blood soaking into my clothes, weighing down my entire body.

Whose blood was it? I did not feel pain, so it couldn't be mine, right? I examined my body carefully, and I did not find any wounds.

_I know its blood, I can smell it. _The coppery scent surrounded me, choking me with the disgusting stench of death.

I wanted to run.

What was this?

I needed to get away, but I found that my legs refused to move. I could not stand; I could not crawl. I was trapped, kneeling in the blood pouring over my ankles and thighs. My heart began to beat at an unnatural pace; far too fast; pounding in my ears, filling the silence, the darkness, and blocking out the steady dripping of blood. I wanted to scream. I couldn't escape. This horror, this hell was real, and it was consuming me.

Unexpectedly, I felt a warm hand clamp down on my shoulder, a slender body press gently against mine, and distantly I could hear a familiar voice call my name.

I turned to see whose hand was on my shoulder, but no one was behind me. There was only more blood, pouring through the darkness to wash over my already drenched body. My heart began to pound at an even more erratic rate, my breaths becoming ragged and painful as I had to force my lungs to take in air. I glanced around, searching for the person who was calling out to me.

_Breathe, remember to breathe._

_Whose voice is that? I know that voice._

Faintly I could feel the hand fall from my shoulder. I cried out, begging not to be left alone in the terrifying darkness.

As soon as my voice rang out in the silence, the hand was replaced by arms. These arms were long and thin, and they wrapped around my torso. I could feel the warm slim body pressing closer still, and then suddenly I was being pulled backwards. I was dragged out of the darkness, away from the blood which glistened evilly at me as I slipped by. My body was quivering with fear as the blood slid smoothly beneath me, further coating my pale skin. I closed my eyes, trying to drown the rising panic, and attempting to swallow my fright.

"Elliot…" the voice whispered again, a chain pulling me back to reality. And as if I were surfacing, I pulled myself from the horrific dream. I took deep gasping breaths.

The air no longer smelled of blood, the unpleasant coppery tang was gone. No, the room I was now in had hardly any scent at all except for the lingering fragrance of cloth and books.

I was in my room; I could feel the silk sheets beneath me, warm from my body heat, and twisted from my thrashing. The darkness, the blood, it had all been a dream. I realized this when I felt that the sheets beneath me were dry, and not coated with the slick ruby substance. No blood, but still I did not open my eyes.

Someone was embracing me from behind, smooth, thin arms encircling my waist. My back was pressed against something solid, though slender, and I knew instantly it was the chest of the person who held me. I could feel the other person's heart beat, slow and calm compared to my rapidly hammering one.

I knew that these arms were the ones that had saved me. Those arms, though not appearing to be at all muscular or strong in build had managed to pull me out of the horror of my own mind. The hell my unconsciousness had created; the nightmare.

I turned into the warm embrace, regressing swiftly to a childlike nature in my need to be comforted. I clung weakly, my strength draining as I collapsed against my rescuer.

My eyes were still squeezed shut, but I could vaguely hear the other person whispering soft, consoling words in my ear, and I could feel slender fingers gently caressing my spine. The hushed voice coaxed me into calming down slightly, and my breathing slowly returned to normal.

I felt soft fabric between my fingers, a shirt perhaps, as I could feel a slim chest beneath rising and falling as the other person breathed.

My savior held me gently, arms firm around me, but not restricting. I found myself instinctively leaning forward to rest my head against the other person's chest, listening to the calmly beating heart, and feeling mine eventually slow to match the gentle pace.

The person was still talking, muttering soft words in the stillness of my bedroom, and the hand had moved up from my back to peacefully stroke my hair.

_I know this voice. Always so calm, even when I get angry and yell. _

I still did not open my eyes. As much as I wanted to see the person, I could not bare to open my eyes.

_What if I'm still in the dark? And the walls… the walls are made of waterfalls of blood._

I shuddered, and once I started I could not stop.

The arms around my waist pulled me even closer to the warm body, and the person kept speaking, though the words sounded more urgent.

"Elliot, you must calm yourself."

I heard the words this time, even though my heart had begun to pound chaotically again, threatening to obliterate the voice; that calm, peaceful voice, and pull me back into the dark recesses of my thoughts.

The body I clung to, so warm it was almost stifling, was my lifeline, tethering me to reality. The voice, calling to me, beautiful and so familiar, pulled me from the horror that was my own mind.

"Open your eyes Elliot," the voice requested softly.

I clung to the wonderfully slender body, and I shook my head vigorously, feeling my hair slap against my forehead, slightly damp with sweat. I could not stop shivering, as if a breeze of cold wind was sweeping through my room.

"Open your eyes. You are alright, it was just a dream."

Again I shook my head in refusal.

The other person sighed. It felt strange, observing a sigh while my eyes were closed. I could feel beneath me the person's chest rise and fall. I could hear the short, almost sad sound the air made as it passed through lips, and I felt the soft gust of breath on my ear, tantalizingly warm.

The sigh was followed by silence, and if not for the reassuring pressure of the body beside mine, I would have felt utterly alone.

The lithe body slid backwards abruptly, almost out of my reach, as if the other person was preparing to leave. I yelled something then, I'm not sure what, just an unintelligible shout of angry and fearful words. My fingernails dug into the thin flesh of the other person, and I heard a pained gasp pass through the lips that had moments before sighed.

"I'm not leaving Elliot, but you need to open your eyes. You have to see."

As I began to shake my head for a third time, slim fingers wound through my hair, holding my head in place. I was about to let loose another angry noise, when I felt something soft brush against my open mouth.

I thought for a moment that the other person might be trying to gag me, or maybe smother me, as the smoothness against my parted lips felt much like the silken sheets beneath my fingers. My heart began to race; I could feel it all throughout my body, like the pounding and clanging of some otherworldly clock. Would I be harmed? Would this lifeline be twined around my throat and used as a noose?

The ridiculous, panicked and exhausted thoughts passed through my head, each one more absurd than the last.

The sweet velvetiness brushing gently against my mouth became more forceful, and with a sudden shock I realized that the material was not cloth, but skin, and to be more precise, lips.

I was being kissed. _Strange_ I thought mildly, though my thoughts seemed to be drifting away entirely. My heart was still beating at a rapid pace, but for the first time that night, it was for something other than panic. My mind was completely at ease, floating in a pleasurable fog.

_Strange…_ the thought floated back to me again. I tried to push it away, as I curled my fingers in the other person's hair and pulled them closer, meeting the gentle, hesitant kiss with a desiring and forceful one of my own. My lips moved of their own accord, pressing harshly against the yielding, submissive ones.

_Strange…_I almost moaned in annoyance. Why wouldn't that thought go away? _What was strange about this? _

_The voice…it was something about the voice._

_Ah, yes that voice had been familiar. So this was obviously someone I knew._

_No, there was something else about the voice._

I thought back, trying to recall what the other person's voice had sounded like through the thick mist encircling my mind.

I nearly tumbled off of my bed when I finally remembered.

_The voice had been familiar…and also obviously male._

My eyes flew open.

I was nearly hit by another panic attack when I first opened my eyes and all I could see in front of me was darkness. I shivered slightly remembering the terrifying details of my nightmare.

But slowly I realized the darkness before me was not menacing empty space; it was long, tousled black hair.

I lifted my hands, feeling the other person's impossibly soft hair slip through my fingers. I pulled my hands farther up until I could see them, peeking out from behind a dark mass of tangled hair. I watched as some of the longer strands slid slowly, almost reluctantly away from my spread fingers.

_No._

I shoved the person back, trying to distance myself so that I could see his face.

But of course, I could not see his face, as usual. His long messy hair always acted as a barrier, closing him off completely from the outside world.

"Reo…" I whispered hoarsely. I had no idea what else to say.

_No. _

I stared at Reo's lips disbelievingly. There was no mistaking it, the gentle swelling left over from a rough kiss, and the wet shimmer that coated the inner edges of his kiss-bruised lips.

I had done it again. I had kissed my servant.

Reo was silent, presumably watching me through those thick bangs.

I stared back, still in shock.

Reo's lightly colored night clothes were nearly as disheveled as his hair. The starched shirt was wrinkled and creased, with the left side of his collar sliding partially off of his shoulder, exposing the pale bare skin of his neck.

Seeing the state of Reo's night clothes reminded me abruptly that not only had I kissed my servant, but I had clung to him, probably whimpering childishly for an unknown amount of time.

It was Reo who had pulled me from that horrid nightmare. Reo's calm and collected voice had called me back to my senses.

All of these things should have made me be thankful, but all I could feel was the growing current of anger.

"Thought you'd mock me, eh, Reo?" I spat through gritted teeth.

Reo remained silent, and I watched as his night shirt slipped farther down his shoulder.

"You were awake the other night weren't you? Well I'll tell you I didn't mean any of it! I was just trying to wake you up!"

"I don't know what you are talking about," Reo said quietly.

I felt the rage begin to pour throughout my entire being, pulsed through my veins by my overworking heart. My entire body tingled with the force of my wrath. "So you think its ok to climb in my bed while I'm half asleep and start…start attacking me?"

"Elliot…you were having a dream, you were yelling in your sleep. I couldn't stand seeing you like tha-"

"Shut up!" I roared. And suddenly I recalled the words Reo had been repeating to me over and over again. At the time they had seemed so soothing, but now…now they just felt condescending. _Open your eyes, you must see._

"You stupid hypocrite!" I screamed, not caring if I woke my brothers on the floor above. "You told me I had to see, "open your eyes" you said, but all you do is hide! You never see a single god damned thing because you're always hiding behind all that hair. So tell me Reo, what are you hiding from, eh? What scares the shit out of you so much that you sink low enough to dull your own vision with glasses you don't need and ridiculously long hair?"

_Smack._

I never saw the slap coming, but I felt the sharp sting on my cheek as Reo's palm connected with my face. I was too stunned to move, much less reciprocate the action. I timidly raised my hand to my cheek, and I winced slightly at the delicate throb I felt from the contact.

I heard the soft rustle of sheets as Reo slid off of my bed; he plodded across the floor with quiet footsteps until he was standing directly in front of me. He leaned in close, so close that I could see myself reflected in the cloudy glass lenses of his pointless glasses.

"Don't speak so quickly of things you truly know nothing about. Learn to not be quite so thoughtless of other's feelings," Reo said as calmly as ever. He readjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, and I wondered absentmindedly why he slept with his glasses on.

I watched as Reo turned and walked across the room, heading in the direction of the large couch on which he slept. He turned at the foot of my bed and gazed back at me thoughtfully.

"You have been having nightmares since we returned from Sablier haven't you?"

"What?" I asked, slightly flustered at his sudden change of tone.

_This guy goes from slapping me to worrying about my wellbeing? _

"Don't deny it, I have heard you mumbling and tossing in your sleep the past three nights, though tonight seems to have been the worst," Reo said bluntly.

"Yeah…" I said. "Maybe it's just some weird side-effect from that concussion I got when I tripped."

I saw what I thought was a pained expression flit across Reo's face, but after a moment it had passed, and his face (what could be seen of it at least) had returned to being emotionless. "Maybe," he said, and he turned, walking directly towards the darkly colored settee on the other side of the room.

"Reo?" I called after him softly.

"What?" Reo asked, turning partially back in my direction.

"Why did you umm…why did you kiss me?" I asked, feeling my cheeks heat slightly as I remembered how I had blindly devoured Reo's lips only minutes before.

Reo did not answer immediately, and instead he paced the last few steps to his settee and flopped down on the firm cushions. He pulled his thin cotton blankets up to his chin, and glanced back at me, still perched on the edge of my canopy bed. "Hmm…I wonder," he whispered.

* * *

><p>I awoke in the morning with only a slight memory of what had come to pass during the night, and what remained was nothing more than the faint smoke of a dream.<p>

Or so I thought when I first opened my eyes.

When I glanced over at Reo, however, and my bleary gaze took in his rumpled and untidy appearance, I had to question myself.

Was it reality after all?

And if that guilty pleasure had not been a dream, but an actuality, what did that say about the other dream?

The blood, and the darkness. Was the horror perhaps real too?

Dream or reality?

Both seemed to walk a fine line in-between.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hmm so that was some pretty descriptive and gory stuff at the beginning I guess, but I don't think its worth raising the rating to M ~ Another awkward moment with Reo in Elliot's bedroom? Oh geez: This chapter kind of came to me randomly: a combination of wanting to write about Elliot's dreams and Reo slapping him O.o By the way if you're wondering why I have uploaded three chapters in three days, its because I may not have the chance to upload again for a little while. I will try my best to get the chapters up soon, but it may be a little bit of a wait. As always, thank you very much to everyone who read/reviewed/favorited!**


	11. Blind

**11**

**Blind**

* * *

><p>Reo<p>

I seated myself quietly on Elliot's bed, a hardbound book propped open in my lap, balancing between my thighs. I reclined against the dark wood headboard behind me, and though my book rested so enticingly on my legs, I had yet to glance down at the pages. I was too busy observing Elliot, who stood across the room gazing speculatively into the depths of his large closet. His slender hand cupped his chin, and one of his lengthy fingers tapped against his lips slowly. His light eyebrows slanted downward in a familiar scowl, turquoise eyes squinted as he glared at the rows of formal clothing hanging within his closet.

Seeing Elliot so serious, his expression as solemn as ever, while partaking in the simple task of packing was just too amusing, and I felt a laugh building in the back of my throat. In order to avoid a premature death, I quickly disguised the laugh as a cough; my shoulders shaking with hidden mirth as I reached for the tie fastened at my throat. I tugged at the knot, for the tightly wound cloth was preventing air from reaching my lungs.

Unfortunately, though the pretended cough covered the laughter which would have surely brought about my youthful demise, it still drew Elliot's attention away from the closet he was studying with such somber attention.

Elliot's blue-green eyes flicked towards me, announcing his annoyance clearly in a single warning glare.

I quickly attempted to choke back my coughing and get a firm grasp on my laughter. My fingers fumbled in my lap, and I promptly snapped my book shut and tossed it onto the ruby sheets beside me. Once my ragged breathing settled, I glanced back up at Elliot.

Elliot appeared to be irritated and somewhat stressed. His normally pristine attire was rumpled slightly, and the navy blue bow usually tied tight enough to cut of circulation hung loosely around his neck. His light brown hair flopped messily over his forehead, and he pushed the gentle fringe unceremoniously off of his face to allow his angry gaze to pierce me more thoroughly.

"Reo what are you doing? You should be packing too," Elliot said, his voice sounding somewhere between an aggravated growl and an exhausted sigh.

I let out a short, humorless laugh. I scooted away from the headboard, and I collapsed carelessly backwards, lying out leisurely on Elliot's bed. I let my arms extend at my sides, feeling the warmth of silk sliding beneath my fingers. My booted feet dangled inelegantly over the side of the four poster bed, and my dark hair spread out around me, disrupting the steady flow of the crimson sheets.

_Crimson…_

My stomach clenched severely. I never wanted to see Elliot surrounded in this color again. I curled my fingers in the soft smoothness of the cloth. No, red does not suit him.

I glanced across the room, narrowing my eyes to partially block out the sharp glare of the sunlight streaming through Elliot's open window. My gaze fell on the small pile of clothing lying pitifully at the foot of the settee that acted as my bed.

"None of it belongs to me anyway," I mumbled softly.

Elliot gave me a sour look. "You are an idiot, Reo. You know that?"

This caused a small smile to tug at the corners of my lips, and I sat up, releasing my aggressive hold on Elliot's dark red sheets and feeling my usual composure sweep over me. As my unruffled calm returned, I pulled myself to the edge of the canopy bed, letting the heels of my boots tap against the wooden floor.

"Yes," I said, and I watched Elliot through my dark bangs. He had gone back to glaring at the wide expanse of clothing in his closet. I wondered distantly what exactly he was looking for, all of the clothing looked the same to me: expensive, boring, and overly-clean.

"What are we packing for anyhow?" I asked interestedly.

Elliot turned towards me with an exasperated sigh, his hand falling dejectedly from his chin. "I already told you, Reo," he grumbled in frustration.

"No you didn't," I shot back. "All you said was 'Reo. Go pack.'"

Elliot glowered at me and opened his mouth to reply.

He was interrupted by a soft knock on the white double doors beside him, and whatever unpleasant comment Elliot had been about to make was left unsaid.

Elliot glared at me, easily transmitting his aggravation through the cold gaze.

"Come in!" Elliot yelled - a little bit too loudly – at the person on the other side of the large, intricately carved doors.

The door cracked open slightly in response to Elliot's shout, and a small heart-shaped face came into view, along with a short mop of dark brown curls.

"What do you want, Vanessa?" Elliot snapped at the figure that was still partially hidden by the door.

Vanessa gave her younger brother a cold glance before pushing the bedroom door the rest of the way open, the pale wood emitting a tortured creak at the sudden demand for entrance.

Elliot's elder sister was dressed in her typical black fitted outfit, which complemented her dark hair and eyes. The only noticeable difference at that time was the pile of white cloth resting in her arms.

"Here," she said brusquely, passing the lumpy mound of pale material to Elliot. "Reo's is the smaller one. We didn't have time to take his measurements, so hopefully it will fit." The slim girl spun back towards the door, as if she were going to leave, but she grudgingly turned back towards her younger brother. "Oh and you might want to try yours on as well," she said. "You may need a new one."

I watched in mild confusion and immense curiosity as Vanessa turned again and hastily exited the bedroom.

As soon as the double doors slid closed with a harsh snap, and Vanessa's dark bouncing curls disappeared from view, my gaze slid back to the mysterious heap of clothing draped across Elliot's left arm.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Your uniform," Elliot said, as if this should be obvious.

"Uniform?"

I watched as Elliot hung the clothing on his closet's lever-shaped door knob. My eyes widened slightly behind the thick lenses of my glasses as Elliot carefully shrugged off his dark blue jacket and let it fall abruptly to the wood floorboards. The dark cloth pooled around his ankles in an untidy heap.

"Yes, uniform," Elliot said as he untied the already slack knot at his throat. "And that is why you need to be packing, Reo. We are returning to Lutwidge in a week." Elliot paused for a moment, seeming to consider his words as his nimble fingers moved to the small buttons on his formal white dress shirt. "Well I suppose I will be the one returning, and you will be going for the first time."

"Lutwidge?" I asked, amazed. "The country's most prestigious academy? Is someone like me really allowed to attend? I thought only nobles could."

Elliot scoffed softly, his fingers still working deftly on the buttons of his wrinkled shirt. "Of course you have to go, Reo. That is where I go to school, and as my servant, you must accompany me everywhere I travel from now on. Anyways, they have an enormous library that you might like."

_I will follow…_

I was still staring at Elliot in a mixture of surprise and delight when he finally managed to undo the last button on his shirt, and the colorless garment fell to the floor beside the discarded navy formal jacket.

I gasped when I saw the markings on Elliot's chest for the first time: the dark swirling lines in the shape of a clock that had formed over Elliot's heart. The lines were mostly smooth and rounded, but many were jagged and sharply cut in the shape of diamonds. These black markings seemed to wind their way around Elliot's chest, as if seeking for the very possession of his heart: tainting and staining his fair skin.

I gritted my teeth, trying to pull my eyes away from the appalling sight.

_Oh, right. I had forgotten about this…_

The incuse: the seal which bound Elliot to his chain as eternal confirmation of their contract. I had only ever heard stories about the dreaded clock-like tattoo which marked a person as an illegal contractor. I had never seen one before, but the markings on Elliot's chest matched every dire tale I had heard on the subject. The twisting lines were indeed a clock, though the elegant hand did not count down seconds, minutes, or hours. No, this beautiful atrocity counted down the remainder of Elliot's life. A decorative hand slowly ticking away in reminder that Elliot had not been saved; I had merely prolonged his imminent death, allowing him to linger in the world just a little bit longer.

I could only sigh in desperate relief when I saw that the single hand on the incuse had not moved.

But seeing the markings before me, plain evidence of the terrible thing I had done, was too painful.

_Its all my fault._

_My fault_

_My fault_

What would happen once the clock's hand had made a full revolution? I did not know, and I did not want to dwell on it.

_A terrible beauty…_I thought as I gazed at the dark markings that contrasted so horribly and at the same time splendidly with Elliot's pale skin.

"Reo? Reoooooooo?" An irate voice called me out of my daze, and I unwillingly pulled my eyes away from Elliot's chest to look up into his blazing turquoise eyes.

"Is there something wrong, Reo?" Elliot asked loudly.

I shook my head quickly, and then I froze with a sudden realization.

How had Elliot not noticed the incuse? The ink-like markings were not something that could be easily overlooked.

Strangely enough, Elliot was unable to remember what had occurred when we had gone looking for the missing orphan children in the chasm, but how could he miss the proof directly in front of his eyes?

"Elliot, I-"

Elliot glanced down at his bare chest.

I sucked in a sharp breath, waiting. I hoped I was incorrect.

_You can see it, right Elliot? You can see what I have done…_

Elliot looked back up at me, a bored expression in his eyes.

"Reo, you need to try your uniform on too," he said.

I stared at Elliot in disbelief. What was this? A game? Denial? Or could Elliot truly not see the markings laid out so plainly across the left-hand side of his torso? Blue-green eyes open yet unseeing; Elliot was blind to his fate.

I watched, unmoving as Elliot slid into the navy vest and white jacket that made up the Lutwidge Academy uniform. Each button snapped slowly into place, gradually hiding the dark markings from view. After a moment's time, the winding pattern of the incuse was concealed.

I only wished my guilt could be as easily buried, but the overwhelming truth of what I had done was becoming all too evident.

And finally reality began to sink in, inviting with it dark dreams and visions of the terrible future I had forced upon Elliot.

_If he could have made the decision…even knowing the alternative, would Elliot have chosen death?_


	12. Prior

**12**

**Prior**

Elliot

* * *

><p>Reo let out a sharp breath as we approached the colossal gates that formed the daunting entrance to Lutwidge Academy; and he paused in the center of the path to gaze up at the archway in amazement. The violin case slung across his shoulder fell to the cobblestones with a dull thud, accompanied by an aggravated metallic clanking from the object within.<p>

I bent, growling in annoyance and retrieved the solid black case. I hoisted the violin case onto my own shoulder and stood silently beside Reo, waiting impatiently for his moment of shock to pass.

I glanced at him, somewhat irritated by his sudden loss for words, and feeling extremely smug. "Eh, Reo? You're surprised?" I asked. "You said it yourself: Lutwidge is one of the top schools in the nation. What did you expect? A cottage?"

Reo did not answer, he merely continued to stare, utterly speechless in the face of such a vast expanse of unmarred brick and stone.

I frowned at the dark haired boy, angered by his lack of response. Having tolerated enough of Reo's useless gawking; I grabbed him firmly by his elbow and hauled him roughly through the school's entranceway.

Reo looked up at the arch as we passed beneath, and though I could not see his eyes buried under that absurd amount of hair, I knew they were wide in wonder.

"Reo," I growled as we made our way slowly towards the main building. "If you don't stop staring at everything like that, you are going to attract unwanted attention."

Reo glanced at me, the sun reflecting blindingly off his wide lenses. "Unwanted attention?" Reo asked, one of his dark eyebrows rising slightly above the rim of his large glasses.

I sighed and turned away from the questioning look I knew Reo was sending my way, despite being hidden beneath layers of ebony hair.

_Yes. Any attention here is unwanted._

Keeping my back to Reo, I looked out across the enormous court and tidy grass yard. My steady gaze coldly acknowledged the well-kept lawn and perfectly trimmed hedges before rising to take in the main building's unchanging brick exterior. Though the school building was ancient, the unyielding brick walls stood resolutely in ageless glory and appeared to be exactly the same each time I walked up this cobbled path.

The main building before us held the headmaster's office, classrooms, and library. Thus, it was much larger than the separate dormitories standing at opposite ends of the immense gated-in yard, the one on our left being the boy's dormitory to which we were headed.

I sighed again, and I let my eyes fall to the ground, gazing blankly at the rough stone and crushed grass blades beneath my boots.

_I don't want to be here. This place is so…empty._

I blinked slowly, examining the small shoots of grass and flowers that grew in the cracks between the cobblestones, attempting desperately to overcome the oppressive rocks. Gradually my vision blurred as I receded into my own thoughts.

_I can't have emptiness, I need a distraction._

I had tried frantically for the past week to keep myself busy, making sure I always had something to do to keep my mind and body active. I had not even dared to sleep, which could easily be deduced due to the light blue circles beneath my eyes.

I could not rest. I had to keep the nightmares at bay, no matter what the cost. For if I closed my eyes, I risked once again being surrounded by darkness, and the backs of my eyelids would surely be stained red by the visions of freely flowing blood. I would not allow myself to suffer those nightmares again, but they pursued me endlessly.

I shivered despite myself. No, I could not let my unguarded eyes slip shut, or I would be pulled mercilessly back into the black void. I would not allow myself to be tricked into falling – descending into the river of crimson, plunged into dark wetness and the nauseating stench of death.

Here, even surrounded by a detestably annoying bunch of students who filled the room with their constant chatter, each trying to out-do the rest in volume, I would not find sanctuary away from the horrific dreams.

My shoulders quivered again, and I clutched my chest, attempting to slow my racing heart with my will alone. There had been something odd about my heartbeat lately, though not so much odd as unnerving I suppose. The gentle monotonous sound resounding deep within my chest was now covered and joined by an eerily higher and sharper noise: almost like the obnoxious ticking of a clock.

I jumped slightly when I felt a hand grasp mine, pulling me from my thoughts. The slender fingers were so familiar.

_Will these fingers always do this? Rescue me from my own mind?_

I felt heat rising to my cheeks as I remembered the way these hands had saved me from my nightmare. Pale hands, clasped on my shoulder and pulling me gently from the murky oblivion my traitorous mind had conjured. Slim fingers, winding roughly through my straw-colored hair, pulling my face forward and down so that my lips…

I turned quickly to face Reo, jerking my hand away from his, only to regret the loss of contact moments later.

I shook myself mentally and hoped that the pink tint had disappeared from my cheeks. Reo and I had not yet discussed the…occurrences… of that night, and I did not want to have the conversation here of all places.

"What, Reo?" I snapped, glancing down at the dark tousled hair.

"Elliot…" he said in a bare whisper, and he reached out to snag the edge of my sleeve between his thumb and forefinger. He tugged on the white cloth, pulling me slightly closer. "Are you all right?"

I stared at Reo silently for a moment before attempting to brush his hand off of my arm. "I'm fine," I said with a definitive scowl, but to my great annoyance, Reo refused to release his grip on my uniform jacket. "Let go-"

"No," Reo said abruptly.

I glared, daring him not to follow my orders.

Reo ignored the challenge in my gaze, and he yanked on my sleeve, causing me to stumble even closer to him. "I'm not an idiot, Elliot," he said. "I know you haven't been sleeping since you had that nightmare."

I said nothing; I just gazed wordlessly at Reo.

He looked so out of place; his chaotic dark hair a stark contrast to the orderly yard. The blue and navy uniform too, though neatly pressed and tailored, hung limply to his slender frame: too large for his petite body.

"It's nothing, Reo," I said gruffly, looking anywhere rather than at the dark-haired boy in front of me.

Reo sighed in defeat and he released his hold on my sleeve, white jacket clad arm falling back to his side. "I asked you to tell me if something was bothering you," Reo said, so quietly that even standing right next to him, I could hardly make out the words. "I want to help, Elliot, but you won't let me. You never tell me anything."

I watched, slightly surprised as Reo took a determined step away from me, leaving a large empty space between us. "Reo, what are you -?" I began, but I stopped speaking when Reo took yet another step backwards.

"You distance yourself, Elliot," Reo said, more loudly this time, but just as calmly.

I stared at Reo in confusion.

Reo, through the thick lenses of his glasses and dark curtain of hair, gazed emotionlessly back.

I blinked and shifted the heavy violin case into a more comfortable position on my shoulder.

It took only a moment longer for me to regain my thoughts.

I stomped across the cobblestones, quickly closing the distance between Reo and myself. I halted once I was nearly close enough to brush noses with the dark-haired boy, knowing that he could easily see the fiery anger sizzling in my eyes.

"What the hell are you going on about?" I asked, bending so that I could growl into his ear. "As _I _have said before, my troubles are my own. I'm not 'distancing' myself; I just don't see why I need to tell you."

"You should tell me," Reo responded softly. "Because your problems are my problems also."

"What?" I asked, so taken aback by his words that I forgot to sound menacing, and I leaned back to get a better look at his face.

Reo took the opportunity to shove me away from him, placing both hands firmly on my chest and pushing me roughly back the way I had come.

I stumbled slightly, but I managed to keep my balance. Unfortunately, my composure began to slip, and I felt the anger begin to branch out across my body, scorching with pent up fury and seizing control. The anger stemmed from my inability to sleep, and the frustration that came with my fear of the nightmare that lurked within me. Slowly, my rage bloomed.

"Of course it's my problem, Elliot," Reo said, and he came to stand by my side, though leaving a respectful distance. "Isn't that what a friend is for? To take and carry half the burden. To alleviate the pain. To be equal and an outlet for emotion."

Reo's words, so honestly spoken, soothed my frustration, and tamed my rising anger. As the rage dispersed, I was left not knowing what to feel, or what to think, and so I stared up at Reo, the helpless expression on my face reflected back to me by the mirror-like lenses that hid his eyes.

_After all this time together, he's still hiding._

_I want more than anything to see those eyes…_

"Reo, can I…" I let my words drift away incomplete, deciding instead to show him what I wanted.

I reached towards Reo, fingers outstretched hopefully. I moved my hand forward gradually, allowing him the chance to pull away. When he made no motion to do so, I gently pinched the rim of his glasses between my fingers. Reo flinched slightly as I began to pull the lenses away from his face, but he did not try to stop me.

_Finally, _I thought as I slid the oversized glasses away from his eyes. _Finally I will know what he looks like, I will uncover the truth, and then I will know who he is…_

"Elliot! You're back!"

I jumped instantly at the sound of my name.

In my surprise, Reo's glasses slipped from between my fingers and clattered against the stones beneath my boots. The sharp sound of glass against stone ended the moment, and I knew, with dismayed disbelief, that my chance was gone.

Reo bent to carefully retrieve his glasses, and I caught a slight glimpse of long dark eye lashes before they were once again swathed by midnight black tangles. Reo wiped the scratched lenses once with the white cloth of his sleeve before sliding them back into place over his eyes. An immense feeling of loss swept over me as Reo looked over my shoulder, completely at ease – as if nothing had happened, to face the one who had interrupted us.

Following his gaze reluctantly after a moment, I turned.

I was greeted by two large green eyes sparkling timidly up at me, and without even taking in the rest of the person's appearance, I knew exactly who it was.

"Ada Vessalius," I said bluntly, glaring crossly at the bashful girl, and silently cursing my terrible luck.

"Hi Elliot," Ada said shyly, her emerald gaze shifting to the ground under my harsh stare, and she nervously twirled a strand of her golden hair between her fingertips. "Umm…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you. I-I just hadn't heard that you were back."

"Ada. How many times have I told you not to speak to me as if I was your friend?" I snapped, my impatience getting the better of me. I glanced at Reo, who was watching Ada with a composed expression that I assumed was curiosity. "This is the unwanted attention I was referring to," I said to him.

Ada's cheeks turned a light shade of pink, and she raised her small hands to her face to try and cover her blush. "I-I'm sorry-"

"Elliot. Don't be so rude," Reo said, stepping forward and looking at me pointedly. "You shouldn't say such tactless things to a lady. Apologize."

"Apologize?" I asked incredulously, staring at Reo as if he had lost his mind.

"Yes," Reo said.

Ada merely watched the exchange, glimmering green eyes wide with surprise.

I sighed after a moment and turned to the blonde. I knew that I would get nowhere arguing with Reo, he was far too stubborn. "I'm sorry, Ada," I said, barely keeping the growl out of my voice. "Reo is right, that was no way for me to talk to a girl. Please forgive my disrespect."

Ada's eyes, if possible, became even wider than before as they darted from Reo, to me, and back again. I could almost hear her thoughts as she attempted to make sense of the strange situation she had walked into.

Reo ended the uncomfortable silence by stepping forward once more and offering his hand to Ada. "I'm Reo," he said cheerfully. "This is my first day at Lutwidge; it is a pleasure to meet you."

Ada hesitantly accepted Reo's hand and gave it a light shake before releasing her grip on his fingers. "I'm Ada Vessalius," she said. "Are you a friend of Elliot's?" Her gaze flicked back towards my face, and I saw a strange happiness light her green eyes.

"Yes," Reo said. "A friend."

Distantly I could hear the sound of the school bell clanging, putting an end to the odd conversation we had somehow begun.

Ada perked up immediately, glancing guiltily over her shoulder at the school building. "That's the signal for me to get back to class," she said. "I'm sorry I couldn't show you around, Reo, but I'm sure Elliot can give you the grand tour."

Ada said hasty goodbyes to Reo and me before bounding back towards the school. As she jogged down the cobblestone path, white skirt brushing against her thighs, two small cats poked their heads out of a nearby bush and rushed after her.

Once Ada and her demented cats had disappeared back into the main building, I turned silently back to our original path. I walked towards the large brick building located on the left side of the one into which Ada had just vanished: the boy's dormitories. Reo fell into step beside me, silently following as I made my way towards the ivy covered structure.

"So, you dislike that girl because she is a Vessalius?" Reo asked, and he gazed thoughtfully at the ivy winding its way around the dormitory, encircling the ancient brick building in a strangling grip.

"No," I said edgily.

Reo shot me a cutting glance, and I rethought my answer quickly.

"I guess that is part of it," I said. "But mostly it's just because, like every one else here, I find her annoying."

"You really should be more polite, Elliot," Reo said, examining the cuffs of his sleeve and avoiding my gaze. "Or you are not ever going to make any friends,"

I let out a soft hiss of aggravation. "Why would I want any of these idiots to be my friends?" I grumbled. "What do you care anyways?"

Reo shrugged and peered up at me through his tinted lenses. "I don't. I just think that if you could take people's feelings into account _before _you speak, you might gain some friends, and then you in turn would be a happier person."

I frowned, but I said nothing. It was no use to fight with Reo.

And so, with the late summer breeze pushing at my back and tugging at my tidy uniform, I made my way towards the boy's dormitories.

I had returned; returned to the boring school with tiresome students and dull teachers. Empty schedules: classrooms full of vacant stares, mindless chatter, and students who performed activities senselessly, never truly learning anything. A meaningless place. A pointless waste.

But this time there was someone standing at my side, and despite myself, I found that I was looking forward to the next day.

I glanced at Reo.

_Maybe…Maybe this time it won't be so empty._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This chapter was actually supposed to be a part of the next chapter, but it turned out pretty long so I made it into two. Hopefully I will have the next chapter finished in a couple days since I'll be home all week. Thank you to everyone who readreviewed/favorited the last chapter! This is turning out so much longer than I thought it would~ oh well. **


	13. Distraction

**13**

**Distraction**

Reo

* * *

><p><em>Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.<em>

The soft repetitive rhythm of my pen tapping on the smooth wooden desk in front of me was the only sound in the small dorm room I shared with Elliot. The tapping, which was such an insignificant noise itself seemed to grow and echo harshly in the surrounding silence.

My thoughts were drifting, though not to any place in particular, as I listened absently to the disjointed pattering created by the pen I held loosely between my fingers. I slumped forward in the uncomfortable wooden chair, the armrest poking painfully into my side. I was in a state of pure exhaustion, halfway between consciousness and sleep as I stared vacantly out the chipped glass window before me.

My eyes trailed along the hair-line crack in the transparent windowpane. The crack was the result of Elliot becoming distraught and frustrated over his most recent piano composition. I had not been in the room at the time, but I had been the one who bandaged Elliot's bleeding knuckles.

I sighed softly and absentmindedly shook my head, dark hair spilling into my eyes. Distractedly, I stopped drumming my pen against the desk at which I was seated, and my fingers moved to the cap. With deft fingers I pulled the cap off halfway before quickly sliding it back into place. I repeated this process again and again, causing the room to be filled with the incessant clicking created when the cap snapped back onto the pen. And so, the persistent tapping was replaced by a far more obnoxious and unrelenting sound.

_Click. Click. Click…_

My thoughts floated away again, until I felt as if I somehow hovered far away from my own weak body, far enough that the relentless clicking created by the small pen between my preoccupied fingers faded away entirely. I was left in a blank world, like a forgotten bare canvas, and my thoughts seemed to waft through the air like endless thin tendrils of smoke.

I was tired. That much could easily be deduced from my delusions. My body was weighted down by fatigue, and my mind was so worn out that it had easily succumbed to the somewhat-conscious state I lingered in. I leaned forward on the desk, letting my cheek rest on the flat polished surface. My gaze fell from the cracked window, where it had been latched for the past hour. Had it truly been an hour? It felt that way, at least. I let my eyes slide shut, permitting myself a moment of leisure.

_Why was I so tired?_

I strained to remember, but my mind was so fogged by weariness that recalling the reason for my exhaustion was nearly impossible.

_Ah, yes…Elliot…_

I was tired because…Elliot's nightmares had continued to haunt him. As much as he tried, he could not hide it from me, not when he spent the entire night thrashing and crying out in the bed only a couple paces from mine.

The first couple nights I had tried to block out Elliot's muffled yells and his desperate struggling. I was truly a terrible, horrible person. How had I sat by and listened to Elliot sob in fright? How could I, when Elliot's suffering was my fault? I had been unable to sleep, and instead I endured the torture, forcing myself to acknowledge the severe mistake I had made, the life I had destroyed.

I shuddered, knocking my head against the desk painfully as I remembered Elliot's terrified voice, crying out in the forlorn darkness of our room. I did not know what Elliot saw that alarmed him so, but I knew who held the blame for his nightmares.

And sometimes…when Elliot's whimpering and flailing became too much for me to bear, I would wake him. He would cling to me hopelessly, taking gasping breaths and shivering uncontrollably. Usually he refused to open his eyes, but when he finally did, Elliot gazed at me with empty, broken eyes. I had presented him to the darkness on a silver platter, and now, in the time I was not under Elliot's scrutiny, I wallowed piteously in my guilt. I remembered, with painful accuracy, those dreadfully tormented eyes.

I looked down at the pen trapped between my fingers, the sudden increase in speed pulling me mercifully from my trance.

A groan from the other side of the room pulled me entirely out of my thoughts, and I nearly tipped over in my chair. The pen slipped from my fingertips, and clattered against the stained wooden floorboards before rolling unnoticed beneath the concave desk.

"Reo! What the hell? Stop with that annoying noise!" Elliot roared from his sprawled-out position on his bed. I glanced at Elliot, noticing vaguely that his arms and legs dangled comically off the edges of his bed.

_Oh…I forgot he was in here too…_

Elliot's yell was punctuated by a sharp growl, and a moment later I felt something collide with the base of my chair. The initial impact was followed by a resounding crack as one of the chair legs snapped, and I jumped out of the chair quickly to prevent tumbling onto the ground with the unsteady furniture piece.

I looked down at the broken chair in surprise, my mind slowly registering the damage, and then I glanced at Elliot, who was using one hand to pull himself slowly off of his bed.

_Well I'm awake now…_

I watched as Elliot sat up and yawned, covering his open mouth with his arm.

I sighed, resigning myself to yet again falling prey to Elliot's sleep-deprived rage. I placed both of my hands firmly on the desk behind me, and utilizing my elbows as leverage, I lifted myself onto the desk's smooth surface with a single upward push.

Once seated casually atop the desk, I glanced at Elliot, preparing to be victimized, as this time I was the source of his awakening. Elliot slid off of his bed, furious glare fixed on me.

"Can't I ever get any damn sleep!" Elliot snapped, though his rage seemed to be diffusing, not from lack of anger (no, Elliot was never short on anger), but rather his current exhaustion denied him the ability to maintain his wrath.

"Sorry," I said flatly, knowing that I did not sound at all remorseful.

Elliot looked at me strangely, an odd emotion flitting across his features. In the fleeting glimpse I caught of the expression, I almost thought it was concern. It could not be though; this was the rarest of all emotions to be seen on Elliot's face.

Elliot watched me from his position beside his bed, stretching his neck with a grimace, and unconsciously running his fingers through his sleep-mussed light brown hair. He carefully readjusted his white uniform blazer, which had become skewed during his afternoon sleep session.

After a few moments of this absentminded tidying, Elliot curled his long fingers into fists and shoving them roughly into his pockets, he crossed the room in three long determined strides.

He stood directly in front of the desk, peering up at me, obviously annoyed by the sudden height difference.

"Are you okay?" Elliot asked, to my surprise, and he tilted his head sideways so that he could catch my roaming gaze. Elliot stared up at me intently, and from the sudden closeness I could tell that his expression was indeed one of deep concern.

As I looked down at Elliot from my somewhat elevated height atop the desk, I realized that I had almost forgotten the true color of Elliot's eyes. I was so accustomed to his turquoise eyes being squinted and dark with anger, but now, with his eyes innocently wide, I could see that the color was actually a stunning almost-teal.

"Why would you think I was not?" I asked warily.

"Usually you are not quite so blunt and stoic with me. You've been acting sort of weird, and you look tired," Elliot said.

I wondered absently how Elliot could tell that I was tired when he could not see my eyes, or the bruise-like circles gradually growing darker beneath them.

"I'm fine," I said quickly, not wanting the sympathetic attention to be for me, my guilt could take no more of it without collapsing. "_You_ are the one who looks tired."

Elliot smirked faintly, but even his small smile could not hide the unhealthy redness of his eyes and the dark half-circles underneath.

I noticed abruptly that his attentive stare had wavered, and he was no longer looking into my eyes. His gaze had traveled lower.

_Wandering eyes show what a person desires._

_Oh…_

I shivered slightly, realizing that Elliot was fixedly watching my lips. His turquoise eyes seemed to dance, as if lit from within by some iridescent silver light. I wasn't sure whether to be scared or stirred by the playful glint shimmering in the blue-green depths.

"Elliot…umm," I said, hoping to startle him out of his daze, but not truly knowing what to say. I was far too tired; I could not deal with Elliot's raging hormones in my current flustered and drowsy state.

Elliot leaned forward, bracing himself by placing both of his palms flat on the desk on either side of my thighs.

I moved backwards quickly, nimbly avoiding Elliot's sudden advance, and I gently placed my fingers over his smooth lips.

"Feeling a little too playful today aren't you, Elliot? Are you sure you're completely awake?" I chided, pressing my fingers more firmly against Elliot's mouth.

Elliot growled menacingly, and I could feel the gentle vibrations of the unvoiced threat pulsing through my fingertips.

My dark hair drooped messily over my eyes, and I carefully considered my options. I could stop him from proceeding, and then for the remainder of the day I would have to put up with an exceptionally irritated Elliot. Or, I could allow him to carry on despite my guilt.

_Despite my guilt?_ The thought was so drastically selfish that I nearly choked.

_It's not like I don't want him to continue…_

This final honest thought assisted me in coming to a decision.

"Just make sure you do not do anything you will regret later," I said softly, allowing my fingers to slide away from Elliot's lips and fall back to my side.

Elliot gruffly whispered something that sounded much like 'I wont' before leaning forward once more. This time I did not pull away.

I looked down in mild surprise as Elliot hooked one of his slender fingers through the white silk bow knotted at my throat, and I waited breathlessly for what I knew was soon to follow.

I did not resist, and in all honesty I eagerly accepted as Elliot pulled my lips down to meet his.

The kiss was gentle, not violent and needy like our last, and I decided, shivering softly, that I much preferred this tenderness.

I tensed slightly when Elliot's fingers abruptly brushed against my thigh, but I relaxed when I realized the action was accidental, and the wandering fingertips moved to my waist.

My mind fogged over, but for quite a different reason from my earlier comatose daze. My thoughts became muddled and incoherent as Elliot caught my lower lip between his, tugging teasingly before releasing. All the while my hands remained firmly planted on the smooth wooden surface beneath me, serving as a means of backup support for my body as my mind floated out of my reach on a churning cloud of bliss.

Elliot eventually broke the kiss, releasing his loose grip on my bow tie and straightening. After one more feather-light kiss placed gently on my still parted lips, he slid away from the desk and turned.

I could only watch, entranced, as Elliot marched back to his bed, for I was still rendered motionless due to my recent loss of conscious thought.

I shook myself mentally, forcing my mind to clear, and I observed Elliot as he knelt beside his unmade bed.

He lifted the corner of one of the light blue sheets which were thrown carelessly in a tangled mess across the mattress, and he reached underneath the bed. With careful precision, Elliot pulled my somewhat-empty luggage bag from beneath the disastrous bed, placing it carefully on the hardwood floor.

"What are you doing?" I inquired, confused.

"I wanted to ask you something, Reo," Elliot said, his tone expressing a sudden solemnity, and when his gaze met mine, his eyes were somber.

"…What?" I asked hesitantly.

"I had to ask if you were alright, because the other day I opened up your bag to look for a book to read, and I found this," Elliot said, and in one swift movement he reached into the deep front pocket of my bag and pulled out my borrowed handgun.

Elliot held the gun comfortably, his fingers encircling the grip, entirely at ease with the gleaming weapon. "Reo. Why do you have this?" Elliot asked, and I saw concern once again lighting his eyes.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "You have a weapon too, don't you?" I motioned accusingly towards the violin case leaning innocently against the wall. I knew Elliot's sword was concealed within the deceptively harmless casing.

Elliot seemed taken aback, and I watched, mildly amused as he considered my words before speaking again.

"Yes, but why do _you _have one?" Elliot asked, and then he glanced at the firearm in confusion. "And where did you get a gun anyways?"

"Gilbert gave it to me," I replied, stifling a yawn with the back of my hand.

"That idiot, doesn't he have enough common sense not to go handing out weapons to just anyone?" Elliot grumbled, running a hand through his light brown hair.

"You shouldn't speak that way about your brother."

"Adoptive brother," Elliot said sharply, and the room fell silent. I knew that Elliot cared for his elder adopted brother, Gilbert, quite a lot, so I was surprised by his suddenly harsh tone.

"You never answered my main question anyways," Elliot said after a moment.

"And what would that be?" I asked, though I knew exactly what his question had been.

"For what reason do you need this?" Elliot dangled the gun lazily from a single extended finger and twirled it once for good measure.

I took a moment to contemplate my answer. What would Elliot believe? Would the truth make him angry? I decided to be as least specific as possible without actually resorting to dishonesty.

"For protection, obviously. What else?"

Elliot examined me for a moment, but he seemed to here the truth ringing in my words, and content with my response, he dropped the glinting metallic weapon back into my bag.

I sighed in relief.

Elliot had failed to ask the key question: 'for whose protection?'

_Elliot's of course..._

Yes, I would use my bare hands to keep him from coming to further harm, but wouldn't it help to have a more intimidating threat to back me up (no matter how useless it was in my possession)?

"Can you actually fire a gun?" Elliot queried, looking up at me with one eyebrow raised, plainly conveying his skepticism.

"No," I said honestly, shoving my glasses harshly up the bridge of my nose and feeling the rim bite sharply into my skin.

Elliot stared at me for a moment, and then the mood in the room took yet another dramatic swerve as he burst into uncontrollable contagious laughter.

"You make no sense sometimes, Reo."

* * *

><p>It was sometime early in the morning when I was awoken by a soft knocking at the door.<p>

Thankful that such a quiet sound would not wake Elliot, I reluctantly shrugged off the pleasant warmth of the soft blankets that encased my body and pulled myself out of bed. Unsuccessfully attempting to straighten my creased night clothes, I stumbled blindly through the dark room. I was careful not to make any noise, skillfully evading the squeaky floorboards, so as not to wake my exhausted (and easily angered) roommate. I felt along the wall, reaching sightlessly for the doorknob.

A feeling of dread slowed my fervently searching fingers.

No good ever came of a visit in the middle of the night.

Hesitantly, I closed my fingers around the cold metal knob and opened the door, preparing myself for whatever lay on the other side.

A middle-aged woman stood in the hall outside our dorm room entranceway, her grave expression informing me that she did not bring good news. The only light in the dimly lit hallway was that of the single candle the woman held. The flames cast eerie shadows along the wall and across the woman's lined face, only furthering my panicked feelings.

"Are you Elliot Nightray?" the woman asked quietly, and her fingers pulled distractedly at one of the gray wisps of hair that had fallen out of the sloppy bun pinned stiffly to the back of her head.

"No," I responded in a faint whisper. "I'm Reo. Elliot is asleep, can this wait until morning?"

"I am afraid not, we have just received word from his mother about a rather tragic…" The woman trailed off, her eyes locked on a point over my shoulder.

Before I could turn, I felt a warm hand press against my back.

_Elliot, _I thought, tensing in shock. _I did not hear him get up._

"What has happened?" Elliot inquired from behind me, his voice neither irritated (as it normally would be) nor curious, but frighteningly calm.

The hand on my back moved, and I felt Elliot's fingers trail down my spine, asking me wordlessly to relax, before coming to rest comfortingly on my hip.

_He is trying to reassure me when he is the one receiving bad news!_

I wiggled slightly, trying to shake off Elliot's hand, but the consoling fingers grasped my hip even more tightly, dull fingernails biting cruelly into my skin.

"Ah…" said the woman before us, and I was grateful that from her position she could not see Elliot's possessive hold on me. "You are Elliot Nightray, then?"

Elliot did not say anything, but I assumed that he had nodded because the woman continued.

"Your mother has requested that you return home."

"Why?" Elliot asked, and I could plainly hear the surprise and wariness in his voice, though his tone remained impassive. "We have only recently arrived."

Elliot's fingers pressed more harshly into my hip bone, causing me to hiss softly.

And finally I understood. Elliot's rough grasp on my hip was not only meant to reassure me, it also served to keep Elliot calm despite his rising panic.

The woman shook her head, placing a faintly wrinkled hand over her mouth and closing her eyes. "Please get dressed and report to the headmaster's office. He will explain."

"What happened?" Elliot asked again flatly.

The woman shook her head once more and turned, with a swish of her long brown skirt, sputtering candle held aloft, to retreat back down the long dormitory hallway.

"Wait!" Elliot cried, his unruffled façade falling away and revealing the alarm beneath. His grip fell from my waist, and his hand instead claimed my own, his fingers intertwining viciously with mine. Elliot dashed after the withdrawing woman, dragging me forcefully along behind him. He reached out, grabbed the woman's wrist, and pulled her to a sudden halt.

"Please, just tell me what has happened," he whispered, hopeless anxiety shining in his eyes.

The woman turned to look at Elliot, with sorrow etched into her already somber features. "Your brother…Fred Nightray, has been killed."

The hand in mine went slack instantly; the painful grip was gone, replaced by one that was limp and lifeless. Moments later as the weight of those words crashed down on him, Elliot's legs gave out, and he fell heavily to his knees.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the wait! I had surgery on Monday and I was kind of brainless all week (which is probably why Reo ended up being spacey for a good percentage of this chapter). Bleh :P <strong>

**Thank you to everyone who read/reviewed/favorited the last chapter!**

**So, anyways, my friend Shawn (who reads everything I write, even if it's terrible 'cause that's just the kind of awesome guy he is) asked me what kind of music I listened to while I wrote this story…the conversation went something like this:**

**Shawn: Heyyyyyyyy Dusty, do you listen to music when you write stuff? (Dusty is a terrible, terrible nickname of mine that many people call me… it is the result of my little sister being unable to say 'Destery' (pronounced Des-tree just in case you didn't know, and just to clear something else up, no 'Void' is not my real last name ~duh))**

**Me: Mhmm (Always)**

**Shawn: What do you listen to while you're writing from Reo's perspective? (Reo is his favorite character)**

**Me: Never Shout Never! (that's a band, for those of you who don't know) *starts singing (poorly) at the top of my lungs***

**Shawn: So then what do you listen to while you're writing Elliot's point of view? (He doesn't like Elliot much, he thinks Elliot is too aggressive. I on the other hand absolutely adore Elliot)**

**Me: Hardcore screamo…**

**Shawn: *man giggle***

**~Wow longest author's note ever, sorry. It's at the end for a reason xD only important stuff goes at the top, of course.**


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